MLFMP3: Revenge of Kael'thas
by pooktales
Summary: Kael'thas has a plan to punish everyone who ever crossed him. Ever. But then, the worst person possible steps in and turns everything on its head. This story is a brief transition into MLFMP4: Fall of Quel'thalas.
1. The Penpal from Hell

**Revenge of Kael'thas**

(Disclaimer: This story is based upon a game called World of Warcraft. Therefore, I do not claim any rights to their story, or game.)

((The Epilogue comes first, then the drag-out fight chapter is right after this one. Sorry, guys, but this new plot needed a bit more context before I jumped into the thick of things! And, for those of you just tuning in, 'Return of Kael'thas' no longer exists. It is being replaced by this story. Any old chapters from the Return of Kael'thas story can be found in 'MLFMP Deleted Scenes', so you can re-read anything that you've become particularly attached to whenever you want.))

**Prologue: The Pen Pal from Hell**

The bed was cold. Jaina took uneven breaths. Inhale shallow, quivering lip. Slightest pulse of a delicate vein, just beyond the edge of her eye. A man's finger teased there, turning the skin ice blue. Jaina exhaled a drawn, painful breath. He frosted the gentle flush of her cheekbone next, then pressed into the hollow above her jaw.

"You have a beautiful skull, Jaina." Arthas said.

What did she feel for him? Jaina forced her eyes open. She clawed her own fingers clawed into the white pillow case just beneath their heads. No. Right now, every ounce of her strength was focused on survival. Good.

Arthas touched his nose to Jaina's and puffs of white breath passed between them. Sunlight made the walls, the floor, everything carved from the heart of dark frozen ice, glisten. Sparse adornments had been abandoned on a crystalline table. Two old, forgotten statues faced either gently melting bedpost, against the far wall.

"Can you still hear me?"

"…Yes."

"Then try and answer, love." Arthas had to stop himself. She shivering for fear of him, or near to death with the cold. So sexy. He laughed and smelled her. "Once more. What is Thrall going to do with Lady Vashj?"

"I have Vashj."

"Do you, now?" Arthas squeezed Jaina hard, in a cuddle. "Oh you're cruel, I adore you, I knew it! There's a black streak in there somewhere… But what do you plan to do with the bitch?"

"…Saved her life." And then some breathy whispering about Stormwind and justice.

Arthas frowned, and his latent cruelty came and stole all away all the princely charm. "Oh fuck it all. You got my hopes up Jaina Proudmoore, I don't see what sense Bolvar or any of them would ever make of it. Just give her to Tyrande. Mmm… that'd be disastrous fun."

Jaina furrowed her brow, and appeared as hurt as if Arthas had bitten her. "…I don't understand you."

"Vashj? This is the sea witch who helped Kael'thas and Illidan get to Outland, but was conveniently unavailable when the time came for their silly triad to face me here in Northrend. What fun is it to just hand Vashj over to the authorities, Jaina? Darling? Sweetheart? Give her to Tyrande for me instead, and the High Priestess will completely freak out." Arthas laughed, and that echoed in his empty black ice palace. "I'd pay to see that, my little Magistrix. I'd sell tickets, Jaina. You know that I would."

Jaina breathed against his shoulder. She started to smile. "Jerk. Haven't changed…"

"No, Nerdboy's the jerk. And Illidan. By the way, why haven't they killed one another yet, Darling? Vashj is well out of the way, by now."

"Thrall said…"

Arthas made a fist but then reached around and tugged hungrily at the woman's brunette hair instead. He made and crushed ice crystals with every eager stroke. "Go on, I won't be angry with you. I never have been."

"…Kael'thas was just married. He's planning to come home."

"No. He isn't."

"Thrall is a Farseer. And my fleet—"

"Well, Kael'thas is a Ghoul-turd. How about that? I know _that_ for a fact. Kael'thas isn't going back to Silvermoon. The Horde would kill him, including your Thrall—I don't care how he sweet-talks you when I'm not around, and no one in the Alliance would stand for that, either. I also have some serious trouble believing that Kael'thas actually found someone to marry him in the first place. No wait, you're joking and it's just his succubus, isn't it? What was her name… Ruth… Ruth something. Doctor Ruthie."

"…Who?"

"Well, she's pretty. Of course I know about her. You poor thing, is your brain so fogged now that you even forgot how I used to do things? Oh, aren't you precious, Jaina Proudmoore! You think I'm some kind of saint beneath all this? You always did, didn't you? Adorable. Just exquisite. Now, tell me, who is this wife if it isn't a stunt with old Ruthie in some kind of grand costume to fool and endear the masses? Kael'thas married something like a Tauren, didn't he? A hideous cow. He would. He's desperate. We both know him best, that bookworm. Maybe Kael'thas won't answer my letters, but I bet his heifer would. And, you know, that'd be elite, to get in and control even that far…"

Jaina sneezed. Arthas marveled over how cute it was. Her nose blushed next, and then the place over her breast. Arthas pressed his ear against it, and she went instantly blue. The heart beat slowly in a cavity deep below…

"Oh no. Darling, you're getting too cold…"

"Kael'thas... up to… something. But Thrall and I, we have a plan—"

"That will have to wait love, when you can die. Shh. Come here, hold onto me. That's it…"

The Lich King had but only to reach out with an expectant hand, and suddenly, a loyal Deathknight was there to place a warm gold goblet in it. Arthas made Jaina sit up. Her drowsing head lilted back and the slight ball of her throat exposed. Arthas leaned in and craned her neck back still further, bringing the steaming concoction to her lips. Jaina choked immediately, and spat it back in his face.

"Make her." Arthas growled through violet, dripping slashes across his eyes and nose . A second Deathknight seemed to unfreeze from the far wall, no longer just a statue suit of armor. This one was a Troll who pinched two big callused fingers over Jaina's nose. She gasped for air and struggled, but Arthas was able to force the rest of the drink down. When Jaina was done coughing and crying, Arthas begged her to calm and rest, rubbed his cheek against hers, kissed her everywhere above the blue collar of her dress. This became a soft, terrified lullaby whispered against the woman's ear. Arthas encircled arms around Jaina's waist and her breathing slowed once more. Her arms and legs were rosy with life and pretty again, but also limp like a rag doll. Arthas and his Deathknight servitors all watched closely.

"My dear, little Magistrix… I would not have to do this to you, if would just obey me. I did not like waiting and waiting for you to arrive, no I did not. Do you think I want to make you into a puppet like these others? No, no I couldn't stand that." The Deathknights shared a look over their master's head then. "And worse than you being… forever changed, they would find us out, wouldn't they? My love, my dear, you must mind me alone, now. You must be strong for both of us. Ah, now, that's the steady heartbeat I need. Are you feeling alright again? What of Thrall? Quickly, while our special wine lasts... How does the Warchief plan to fight Kael'thas, exactly? Isn't that what Thrall intends, to oppose him? Kael'thas would be too powerful left unchecked. And what do you think Kael'thas is planning if he's somehow been freed of Illidan? Did your spies learn anything about that? You need to tell me. None of this fits into my plan. There are too many loose ends. Jaina? Wake up! I can't advance any further if you don't tell me something of value!"

Jaina looked at Arthas differently now, however, and at the Deathknights suddenly leaning so close. Her frosted lips opened, the perfect pearly teeth inside her mouth were smeared with thick red muck. The strange wine gurgled deep in the woman's throat. She was trying to scream.

Athas sneered at his men. "…Unthaw her."

The first Deathknight, a Human, took the emptied wine goblet away with one hand, then he reached in and hefted Jaina up and over a shoulder using his other strong arm. Jaina watched Arthas the whole time they departed. She was frightened, nearly to death.

When his bedchamber door closed, Arthas began speaking quickly, "This goes against everything, Zabran. Kael'thas is alive, and he shouldn't be. Illidan as well… why the first hasn't prostituted his addicted elf-ass to the Legion by now and why the second isn't strung up by his horns in Shatthrath City at this very moment, the notion is far beyond me. At the least, if Vashj couldn't manage to off one of them, then Kael'thas and Illidan should have murdered one another, Zabran."

The Troll answered, tusks catching glazed ice-light. "Yes, Lich King."

"And then there's Tyrande to consider. I truly wasn't joking, she does need shaking up. Why won't that woman make a move to save Malfurion or else murder Illidan? It should be so easy for her now. Tyrande would have been the key to eliminating at least one of my enemies—I truly don't care which, but for some reason she refuses to act. What in Fel could Tyrande possibly know about Illidan Stormrage that the Lich King himself doesn't—"

"Or else, Masta, Tyrande be actin' discreetly, workin' all along with otha people we dun know about."

"Possibly… and then there's the seventh Bloodknight, Magnus the Unmaker. Isn't that the name Jaina mentioned when we first got her in here? Now, why would Kael'thas speak to someone like that alone in the Ghostlands, away from the rest of his group? Gods, and during his so-called honeymoon at that. What a wonderful way to spend a wedding night… But when he's already got a collection of incompetents going, what's one more? Why keep the last one a secret from the others? A plan within a plan, perhaps? I don't like this at all, Zabran. I've reached all over with my abilities, but I can't divine past Northrend, and that's all Jaina would confess. All this waiting and waiting for those two to go on and die already is just infuriating…"

"Dis not as important as Sindragosa or de Argent Tournament..."

Arthas sat cross-legged on the frozen bed. He rested chin in palm, thinking, while his fingers roved to a thick fur mantle behind him. Marriage… Magnus… Tyrande… Illidan… Nerdboy…

Well, that Kael'thas had a son was at least no surprise. It amused Arthas to hear that news and then consider what the boy's existence must mean, if Illidan didn't object to it. Didn't Kael'thas realize the obvious connection? No mad, obsessed Demon Lord would allow his slave to have a son and heir but not a kingdom, those being one in the same. That part had been fun to figure out, Kael'thas' demise was obvious in that area.

But the rest? Arthas stopped fiddling with the rhino-fur mantle and pulled idly at the skin beneath his eye until the red underside of the lid exposed. "When it was time to conquer Azeroth, I attacked the Horde and Alliance cities directly. And so I picked the time and conditions of our battle. I even recruited champions from their own brash heroes who raced North. Zabran, you remember that path from Sen'jin to Icecrown, don't you? Now, Kael'thas and Illidan—so far away—are a threat to me. Zabran, the course now could not be more clear, when the trouble is the same. Obviously, Nerdboy has been working very hard on something secret. Something not even that old fool Illidan can see. Tyrande… Tyrande is like a vulture, circling and waiting for the fallout." Arthas cringed. "No, she'd never stoop to that… unless Kael'thas and Tyrande are working together?"

"Masta, dis not good strategy."

Arthas ignored it, and simply plucked out an eyelash while he thought. Zabran cringed. "…I find a collaboration between them hard to believe. Either way, I will have to handle Kael'thas in the same method that I handled the Horde and the Alliance. I must force him to come here and play his hand early so that I can see it. Then I will ruin him. And oh, he is planning something. Something great and terrible, I can feel it. I know Kael'thas better than anyone else left living. And he likewise knows me… Really, I've left him to live for too long."

Arthas looked up to see Zabran very irritated. "My King, you sure dis not be all because joo old friend get married before you? Cause I kin see it, an' we need to stop dis thinkin' of de past, quick! Kael'thas have a wife and son and a kingdom too, no problem at all… he even escaped da evil voices in his head, but you had to sell your soul to Ner'zhul just to—"

Arthas grabbed a fistful of the black rhino-fur mantle behind him and threw it savagely at his servant, directly into the Deathknight's face. The head and horns were still intact, impressive taxadermic specimen for a man versed in the dead to have. It was as if Arthas had brought the beast back to life to gore the Troll—and perhaps Zabran, in his terror, believed this. The Troll screamed the name of some old god, Arthas grinned to hear such a primal horror expressed, ripped beyond the barrier of even a past life. Oh yes, he was still so very good at freezing and shattering apart the hearts of prideful, useless men. Uther, then that bloated and ungracious father of his, and after Terenas there had been so many more… Anasterian, even Kel'thuzad before Arthas enabled him to find his truer, more capable form, as a Lich. Dear, dear Kel'thuzad… And most recently, precious today, there had been Zabran.

"A Deathknight can never escape the past, only learn from it. Imbecile." Arthas smiled at his distressed servant.

The Troll nodded his head in assent and cried desperately. Zabran attempted to close the large ripped gash in his face with six trembling fingers. Arthas loved it, he didn't want to stop watching his handiwork bleed and putrify. But he was not done yet this morning. Arthas hopped playfully down from the bed and crouched on the ice floor, by Zabran's feet. Then, the Lich King removed the protection of one gauntlet and waved a bare hand to form an opaque white frosted slick. The other hand dipped into the pooled blood of his servant to effect a living warmth that might melt that surface and form runes…

_Dear Nerdboy,_

_I am hurt that you did not invite me to your wedding, or that you never answered any of my letters over the years. Why not? Jaina has, Vereesa has, and even Rhonin himself may do so soon... Wherever there are people who fear death, one may find a faithful servant in the Lich King. I don't care whether they realize it or not. Kael'thas, really, it's only courtesy to indulge such a grand opportunity to speak personally with the Lich King. You aren't afraid that I'm going to steal your soul through a mere correspondence, are you? I assure you, only wish to learn how my old rival is faring, if you've achieved all your dreams of honoring your father and ascending the throne—did I leave a throne for you to sit on, since we last chatted at the Dalaran Academy? Ha! Oh, and most importantly, I am very eager to know whether or not Celestia still orders your name stitched in every piece of those pathetic royal drawers. Because when we finally meet again, I am going to pull on that waistband, and hard, then leave you hanging up by your britches from the Eastern Obelisk for all of Northrend to see. I wish you could see how I'm smiling at that fantastic memory. I want it to be just like old times. _

_Alright then, my threatening letter is done. Come face me, don't make me write you again, you hear me! Face me, and I won't send ghouls to rip off your pointy shriveled elf ears and stab hot cobalt rods into your eyes, and smash your hands to crunchy bits with the flat of Frostmourne. For, you see, I would want to be sure at that point, that all along, you have been absolutely incapable of reading my letters, hearing them read to you, or most importantly, unable to respond to the kindly author within an appropriate time frame. _

_Yours in Death—you pathetic son of a bitch,_

_Arthas._

"Here, Zabran—haven't you stopped bleeding already? I want this rune-forged, and sent to Kael'thas. I'm sure you'll loosen some tongues, somewhere, to find a proper mailing address."

The Deathknight took the icy plaque reluctantly. It was clear what he thought about the task, but Arthas glared and the Troll gave a sharp salute across his chest.

"Master… Arthas… Ner'zhul? Whoever still be in dere… I swear on everytin' I got left in me, dis be a bad idea. You carved joo' heart outta joo chest, but it still be cloudin' your judgment!"

Arthas stood and snapped angrily at Zabran. An impatient, charming smile stretched painfully across the Lich King's face, while the other man attempted to hide his gaze. "Letters convinced Jaina and Vereesa, and everyone else, didn't they? And even if you don't agree on what only I could possibly know, about this great big revenge plan Kael'thas has got going... This much, this is all I have left." Arthas pinched his fingers together to measure, "Can't you see it? I only ever speak about it all the time. This is the last reputation grind I need in order to get The Achievement. Got it, Zabran? I have every-fucking-thing else, except for this, so… please, and for the last time: Do. What I. Tell you."

Zabran backed off slowly, in his roving Troll way, out of the Lich King's frozen bedroom. Arthas stood alone after those great black doors closed. He laughed at himself. He laughed at everyone and every thing that had ever been done against him.

"It's not an addictive game at all, Ner'zhul, you were right. This is just the most fucking fun I've had a very long time."

A hollow voice spoke out from every crevice of the room at once:

_GOOD, ARTHAS. THEN WE ARE SURE TO ENJOY THE NEXT PATCH._

Arthas leaned over the bed and grabbed his stomach, he was laughing so hard. It was just too good. He took off his helmet, wrested off the breastplate, the gauntlets, everything. He exposed his entire body to the cold. He loved it. It tortured everything else, murdered people and creatures and spirits ever so slowly, but he would never succumb to it. And that was the best secret of all, the one thing no one really seemed to understand about him. His life was already done. When he freed Ner'zhul and put on that twisted, Nerubian crown, there was not one regret left.

Arthas had died happy.

This new life, as the Lich King, was rapture. Frozen berry-blue and succulent, on a stick. Ha! Fantastic! What a fine dessert, for a man to eat ice… that would be a fine thing to try later, much later. Only a Death God could have a pleasant seat and actually, really eat ice. Jaina would completely freak. But for now, if only he could get his old and very last friend Kael'thas to come and play…

((Author's Note: If you've read this far, I thank you, so very much, for waiting.))


	2. It's the Finaaaaal Countdown!

**Revenge of Kael'thas**

**Chapter One: It's the Finaaal Countdown**

Five.

Tyrande rang a silver bell and took five breaths.

Moonlight was an aura. She realized this while deep in meditation. Moonlight was really an energy that a mortal projected up and out from deep within. Azshara, Vashj, and the other priestesses who had come before had always been wrong. Moonlight was not the touch of the goddess. Moonbeams, like the one Tyrande knelt in now, did not cascade down from the heavens to the earth. People as individuals were like stars, powerful. When they had hope, their passion radiated from their bodies in all directions. They lifted their arms in praise and could direct the angry, pregnant heat up and bless one another. Up, shaft of light! To the stone moon. Show the moon whose daughter you are, beg her to answer and listen for once. And she will, when we are all such good creatures at heart. She must.

Selfish Elune. Cruel Ysera. You abandoned your daughter in the tree and then you stashed away your son, in an emerald thicket. Go on, it is what you both would do anyways, isn't it? Completely undo the story on a whim, because it suits you. We have all the power as servants you could not do without, but still, it suits you. To punish us. The best along with the worst, indiscriminately. And so then, what was the right course? Tyrande wondered whether her sacrifice all these years had been worth it, if the one she loved suffered. Why did Elune not send some sign? Whom should she choose?

The High Priestess of Darnassus' rose brow stitched thus only a little. One could tell she wasn't exactly praying.

"Lady Jaina Proudmore… How long have you been standing in the shadows?"

"No, please excuse me. Go on, High Priestess, and finish."

Tyrande bowed at the shoulders and squeezed her fingers together. The temple garden of Darnassus was in full bloom tonight. Moonlilies were bold, glowing white and fresh. Even the dandelions had been left to go to seed. Such wild, wild generosity in the night garden. Nothing natural would ever be marred in Darnassus, unless the goddess Elune herself requested it. Everything according to Her will. So then why didn't the goddess ever tell her what to do about him—

"Well, I guess I do have to ask," Jaina laughed, "Which one are you praying for?"

Tyrande exhaled. "One of what?"

"Malfurion has a brother, you know."

"Are you teasing me? Because if so, then you can wait directly outside of the sacred garden."

"I prayed for Arthas, once... That was a mistake. And Tyrande, let me tell you—ha! It was also the last time I ever prayed."

The Night Elf woman pinched between long emerald brows and sat down hard, but not before pulling the white silk robe taught over her backside so that she wouldn't wrinkle the cloth. "Why, my child, was that a mistake? In your opinion. You still seem very troubled by your feelings for Arthas. You don't still love Arthas, do you?"

Jaina paced just beyond the edge of the intense natural spotlight. Tyrande sniffed when she spied the tattered edges of the Human woman's denim slacks. "Arthas was already lost, back then. The Light could do nothing for him. And he was already a paladin of the Silver Hand… one really can't get any more help than that."

A gentle jaw scratch, not overly irritated, "But still, I sense that you feel guilty for Arthas' downfall. Did you come for my guidance?"

"Let me tell you something about men like Arthas, Kael'thas, and Illidan Stormrage..."

"Really, if you think that I was even considering Illidan for a slight moment—"

"They want power. That is their only mistress. When it is all said and done, well, they won't be done, Tyrande. They only want more and more power until she breaks their backs and shatters their hips in about a thousand places. It's true!"

Tyrande stood. "Enough of this… vivid chit-chat. I hope that you didn't come here, Lady of Theramore Isle, merely to interrupt my meditations with gossip."

"Gossip? Pfft! Fine. Continue being all high and mighty." Their eyes met. Tyrande was indignant. Jaina made herself busy stuffing long hair up into a sailor's cap. Fast disguise. "Ahem. Yes, something important has happened and I don't want anyone else to know I'm here. But before I tell you what's going on, I want you to promise me that you aren't going to take this little favor of mine and turn it against everything we've all worked for, by taking it up with you-know-who."

"We?"

"The Alliance, Tyrande. I didn't go running back to Arthas years ago when I found out he'd become a Deathknight. I stayed faithful to the cause of Stormwind and Theramore. I made myself accept that Arthas was already lost. And now, I'm telling you to finally accept that Illidan is lost."

"Kael'thas is lost too." Tyrande laughed under her breath. Jaina flushed.

"Actually… Nerdboy, I mean, Kael'thas isn't lost. My fleet and I, oh we found him alright. An armada of Thalassian ships, done in red and gold and intent on their homeland. Clearly, the Blood Elf Prince is about to make his move. His final move, Tyrande."

"Then, that must mean Illidan is…"

"I don't know how the fel Illidan is doing, and I don't care, you dirty mind. That's not my point. Kael'thas somehow figured out how to escape his master in Outland, and his return suits the Alliance. Or, it will when I get done with him." Jaina gave Tyrande a hard look, her blue eyes looking feral in the dangerous extremes and shadows between them. "I came to warn you. When Kael'thas sits on that throne, he's going to find the entire kingdom surrounded. It's going to be like a bear trap, you see. Thrall and I—"

"You and Thrall?!"

"I… well, we're allies. Our solution is going to help both the Alliance and the Horde."

"And you dare to talk to me about Illidan, when you're clearly sleeping with the enemy." Tyrande paced. "No, you'll never be able to catch Kael'thas. He can't have possibly slipped past Illidan. No one has ever been able to fool a Stormrage."

"Malfurion is going to be free soon. It would be really easy to rescue him. I thought that was the part you'd get all hot and excited about, Mrs. Stormrage."

Tyrande frowned.

"…Kalimdor is going to be ablaze with the news. Consider this your forewarning. I hope you'll be kind and not give Thrall any trouble with his soldiers redirected to the Eastern Kingdoms and all. As a personal favor to me."

"Well of course not, that would only implicate me as a cohort to your strange friendship with the Horde. Mathias Shaw, Velen, and everyone else will be wondering how I knew beforehand, and why I kept your sick association with the Warchief to myself. But Jaina, there is something very unbelievable about you journeying here just to tell me to keep my Sentinels positioned exactly as they already have been for years, comfortable within Ashenvale. I sense… you are trying to guess my reaction to the news. Do you think that I'm some friend of Kael'thas?"

Jaina glanced aside, like a jealous schoolgirl. "… Are you?"

"Everyone knows that I am not."

"Then why haven't your people attacked Illidan yet, or at least freed Malfurion? What, exactly, are you waiting for, if you aren't a friend to Kael'thas, who serves Illidan and is pleased to see his brother Malfurion suffer? Unless… it's not Kael'thas you are a friend of, not directly at least. You must be very loyal to Illidan, then. Everything that you've done, or not done yet at this point, Tyrande, falls right in line with Illidan's interests."

Tyrande opened her mouth to speak, but she was horrified. "Who… who are you working for? Thrall? No, not him. He doesn't need to know these things. Mathias Shaw and the King of Stormwind also have better things to do, and certainly not Velen. He's a pacifist. Jaina, why, and for whom, are you pushing me to make a move in Outland?"

Jaina rolled her eyes, and swallowed as if she had a bad taste in her mouth. She reached into her pants pocket, to which Tyrande hopped back and raised hands to defend herself. "…Gum?"

Tyrande winced.

"No? It's Northrend Mint flavor. Funny, though I don't remember buying it… So yeah, did I tell you about how recently I went to Dalaran, and then I had dinner… There were some curious Deathknights—and I thought, 'Wow! Deathknights are actually loyal to the Alliance now? I've just got to chat them up and see what that's all about. Maybe they've even seen Arthas, I bet he's put on weight' and then they gave me some very odd wine…"

"Jaina, come to the point. You seem very unsettled and that is incensing every protective instinct that I have."

"…Well, I woke up the next day and felt so cold. I had this nightmare of Arthas…" Jaina shook her head. "What did you ever do with your letter from him, Tyrande?"

Tyrande blinked. "I threw it directly into the trash of course. I don't know what sort of fool Arthas is, thinking he can just send cordial letters to people as if he's done nothing wrong over the years. And I've lived too long in this world to give into something so silly. In fact, how did you even know that Arthas sent me a letter?"

Jaina looked upset and scratched her head. "I… don't know… Since I got one from him, I assumed that you did as well. I guess. Do you mean that you were never even tempted to read it? I just… how could anyone not? A personal letter from Arthas—"

"Celebrity means nothing in this life." Tyrande waved a hand dismissively.

Jaina shrugged. "Well, ever since the letter and the nightmare I had, I can't go back to Northrend. That was my original point, anyways. I still feel so cold. That just isn't natural, you know? I intend to focus my energy here in Azeroth."

"But you are a member of the Kirin Tor. Dalaran is locked in battle with Arthas. If you are going to decline their desperate offer for all mages to return and lend support… How can you speak to me of patriotism and loyalty to the Alliance, when you would abandon your own allies? What about Alleria's sacrifice? Or, Vereesa Windrunner? These days, even Lady Sylvanas has got the nerve to establish a presence in Northrend." Tyrande gave a tight smile, "…regardless of what Prince she once belonged to."

"Look, are you going to leave Illidan alone, or save Malfurion, or what? I want to know. Come on, Tyrande, how much longer can you really keep those legs closed?" and Jaina popped her gum.

Tyrande crossed fists up into her armpits, truly vexed. "Frankly, Jaina, I should just dispense with words and slap your face. First, that you would sneak into my temple, and now for accusing me of something that you always knew precious little about—"

"Excuse me? My love life may not be perfect but at least it's not thousands of years' worth of shameless emotional affair. The physical isn't far off either is it? But how do you and Illidan talk, hmm? At least Thrall and I are face to face like normal lusting people. And after all this planning and burning for one another, what do you two have planned?"

"I will go and get Malfurion, of course, and that's all you need to know, Jaina Proudmoore. Thank you for the warning regarding Kael'thas, but please go and have a good night!"

"Not quite yet. There is another reason why I came by, unannounced." Jaina lifted her hands, and began to conjure blue magic. A portal coalesced from globes of pulsing energy until finally it was wide enough for a person to step through. When that was done, Jaina held Tyrande's arm, pulled her out of the way, and beckoned to the magic with the other.

Three figures emerged. The shortest one was dragged forth, scaley green wrists bound, and hissing. Yellow eyes flashed open and Tyrande gasped when she saw it.

"Lady Vashj… Guards!"

"Shh, calm down. I've already got Vashj under guard, don't you see these two handsome sailors holding her shackles? Boys, will you look and see who has no confidence in the Theramore Navy?" the two Human men holding onto Lady Vashj winked at their boss and Jaina smiled back. "Now, listen closely. My ships were in the North Sea on reconnaissance when they observed Kael'thas almost kill her. She was heading straight toward him with a fleet of sea turtles. But Kael'thas sent a phoenix diving into the water to flash-fry Lady Vashj and all her friends. And that his how Thrall and I know Kael'thas is planning something big. If he has enough courage to go this far, then the Triumvirate in Outland was surely broken a long time ago. And so then, what of Illidan? Latest reports still peg the full Demon Lord as the master of the Black Temple, but for how long when Kael'thas is this belligerent? Illidan will fall too, Tyrande, it's only a matter of time." Jaina waited to see what Tyrande would say, but the Night Elf woman was taking slow, patient breaths. Contained fury? Or, regret? "After the battle, I ordered my sailors to fish the bitch out. Surprise, surprise, the so-called Queen of the Naga used her dark magic and managed to live through even a phoenix bombing. I don't dare keep her on board any of my ships, but I figured that you would know best what to do with Darnassus' greatest criminal."

Tyrande's voice wavered, "She… you should have taken her to Stormwind. Why aren't you following the laws of our Alliance? And working with Thrall secretly… Jaina Proudmoore, you have too much power in all of this. Please do not tell me that you are, after all this neutral posturing, very much your father's daughter. Before this meeting, I found you clever and kind, though petulant… you've intervened in many desperate situations and given hope to so many. I respected you because you were like a lone star. But now… What has made you so very angry?"

Jaina just focused on blowing a very large green bubble of gum. It finally popped and Tyrande breathed out through her nose. "Wake up, Vashj. Have you nothing to say to me, after all this time? After you and Azshara attempted to give our people over to the Legion? And what of Illidan?"

Vashj lashed her muscular tail, showed teeth at Tyrande, but nothing else.

Jaina pulled Tyrande still closer and whispered into her ear, as if they had been girlfriends. "She's more than a bit confused, but you had better not be. Make up your mind, soon. Now, I have to run and make time before Thrall finds out I even stopped here. He probably would have wanted Vashj for himself. But you'll take good care of her, won't you Tyrande? Nor will you use this news of Kael'thas against our Alliance. Remember what I said."

Jaina looked both ways, and sneaked back through the night sage bushes with her sailors. Then, several flickering points of violet arcane magic, and all the Humans disappeared.

Tyrande made fists at her sides. "And so, we meet again, Vashj."

"I ssshall sum up my crimes in Outland very quickly for you. No need to torture me, oh great and ssself-righteous one."

"No, I will leave that to my Sentinels—"

"While you dreamed of him, and cried for him, and no doubt prayed for Oscur'Shalak… I sssslept with him." then the Naga woman smiled, really smiled, some of her teeth chipped now, her scaley headdress torn at one edge, the snakes all writhing slow-sickly in her hair. "And Illidan, he loved it. Not you. It was never, ever you."

Tyrande shouted Vashj down, asserted that it wasn't true, and then really had the Sentinels lock her up. The High Priestess rushed out to the temple anterooms afterwards, hurrying past shrines and libation bowls, statues of Elune and the stone-faced children of Cenarius. Tyrande slipped into her bedroom, yanked shut the veils covering her windows, pulled robes and maps from the trunks, along with moonstones, maps, pearl jewelry, sheer red scarves, anything for him!

Four.

_In Shadowmoon Valley…_

There were four druids and a few Sentinels in Tyrande's covert entourage. Another army of Sentinels was stationed far ahead, at the prison site Tyrande had always known about, but never visited. Arch Druid Fandral Staghelm led the way, because the High Priestess did not trust him to lead Darnassus alone. It was what Tyrande last remembered before drifting to sleep. Warm nightsaber moved beneath her now, big shoulders roving rhythmically. This was a terrible time to lose one's grip on things, but Jaina's warning compelled the Night Elves to get going and stay moving since beyond the Dark Portal. And Tyrande felt she had already been racing toward him for thousands of years. Eversince…

_You are wearing the golden coral robe, from Starfall._

Tyrande lifted her chin. Fel green bushes and black rocks all around. Something like a goose-flock of druids leaning over their sabers in feather armor, sharp 'V' formation. She was at the center of it all. Absolute safety… and so the High Priestess let both painted eyes drift shut once more. The faithful were already blessed moonlight, and one needed only to project the power in the face of danger. In that way—hadn't she told as much to Jaina?—Elune was always with the good, wherever they went.

_Oh, no, my love. You are not dreaming. A thousand empress oysters were fished from the sea on that day. Their innards wasted on the salt-stained deck. Salt and blood. Pearly skins then crushed by sailors' callous hands, even as the ship bounded courageously home again… In the Sense Parlours of Azshara, virgins boiled the holy pearlescent grains, mixed, and painted the shimmering mixture on white winter moths' silk. Woven by loom, and at last stretched across your hips. All for me. Did you think I would not recognize in that dress? My Starshine…_

Tyrande awakened gasping, and clutched the front of her golden robe closed. How had the buttons come undone? Plucked apart, one by one... "Illidan!"

Rich, roiling laughter returned in the High Priestess' mind, while wary Sentinels checked back over their shoulders.

Tyrande kept her veiled head down and pressed her palms together reverently. No, she had only been praying for him, nothing to be alarmed about. In a whisper, "We cannot speak together like this, not anymore. Please… I can only give you one last message. This comes directly from Thrall and Jaina Proudmore who have witnessed it themselves: Kael'thas is coming for you."

_You could have warned me of that from Darnassus. You could have done so covered head to toe in a mourner's regalia, with onyx shards of tears sewn, so daring, between your swathed breasts. High Priestess, you could have mourned him and not me, and when I called in your mind, you could have told me to go away forever, to the dankest pit of hell. But yet, you are in my Outland. You have come to set up court in my lap, NOT in his. Admit that the taste of my sex has never left your mouth. You crave me._

Tyrande looked up from her mock-prayers to see Fandral almost turned around in the saddle. He scrutinized her from far down the length of his own prowling Nightsaber.

"As you were, Fandral."

"I see that you were praying for dear Malfurion's soul? Come, Sentinels, let us all pray for the perfect salvation of our stolen hero. If not, then Darnassus has no chance to reclaim the rightful Path of the Paw. It is a relief, after all these years, Tyrande, to finally see that priestesses and their ilk are all good for something."

Several women in violet armor muttered about the vain Archdruid under their breaths.

Tyrande swallowed. "I am but a chased doe between you two. Perhaps my destruction has only ever been the solution. I… Oh, how I hate how stifling it's been. And I've been shackled to an impossible situation, to an impossible, shifty people, to an impossible and unreadable goddess for so long, Illidan!"

_Hear me, Tyrande. Only I have the power to end you. And then, I can begin you._

Tyrande's fists shook as she clutched the bridle of her white riding cat. Her wet eyes flitted west where Illidan showed her, and then her gaze returned to the startled Sentinels, Fandral, and the narrow rock path they all tread together.

"But I already tried to escape this, desperately. So many times, I risked myself to reach out to you, and then to change their minds about what occurred... But I only offended our people, and Malfurion accused me of profaning this marriage. Illidan, no. Please, no more. He is your brother. The very survival of our people rests upon his shoulders. Elune herself will no longer speak to me. I've theologized differently, but no, I am broken, and tired, and done after thousands of years. An old woman, dried up. In the same way that I cannot seize moonlight from the goddess whenever I want, and for whatever purpose my wild heart desires… Illidan believe me, I tried but, I cannot save you."

"…Priestess? Are you alright?" a Sentinel asked, because even Fandral, at the head of their procession had heard by now, and he was scowling.

"Fandral. I want you to… I _need_ for you to take the reins of my cat."

"Excuse me? But isn't that a job for one of your petty little—"

"DO IT NOW!"

_You were a fool to come into my realm, this close to me, Tyrande, and think that the heat of your flesh so near to mine at last… Would come to nothing._

Fandral reached when he feared he heard Illidan's voice passing over the High Priestess' lips, but the druid's silver fingertips missed, just missed. Tyrande screamed. Her white eyes grew terrified and bright. The Sentinels raised their weapons but could not assist their leader, because there was no visible enemy. The powerful Priestess moved on her own, though her tears and her terror betrayed it was not of her own volition. Even as Illidan's powerful voice echoed in their ears, after the first time in so long, Tyrande rode away from them. Perhaps to her friends, it seemed that the High Priestess knew of a secret threat that the goddess in her infinite wisdom had revealed, lightning-struck, into her greatest servant's mind. The women soldiers left the flustered and hesitant Fandral behind. Each woman raised her handscythe and rushed after their zealous queen into whatever it would be.

Tyrande and her four guards raced down from the rock ledge, Archdruid Fandral shouting where he reigned in at the hill's summit. Before the women, air itself bruised black in a tall wound that could have swallowed the entire mountain they'd been scaling. Tyrande screamed as her deranged cat frothed at the mouth and charged deep into it. Rock, fel green sky, and Fel Orc legions now coming at them warped and wavered on the horizon as the portal faded. It burned at the edges, pulsed in dream-white.

From the top of the rise, Fandral dismounted and knelt, unable to believe what he saw. "Dream magic… but only her Oscur'Shalak, the prophet can do that?"

And then the air snapped straight again. The savage red Orcs ran barefoot and hacked the forlorn Sentinels to pieces.

"The rest of you druids, with me! To Malfurion, and quickly!"

_Not long ago, at the Black Temple…_

"Three."

Mavia the Maneater was a clever succubus. She curtsied on tiny orange hooves and smiled at Illidan Stormrage with all of her sharp, canine teeth.

"I am going to beat you, when you are clearly lying to me. I ask you again, how long have I been asleep, and where is Kael'thas?!"

Mavia strutted before Illidan's shadowy throne, and tapped the curve of her whip against a happy black lip. "Master, it has been three weeks since Tempest Keep burned. I promise. Search me, I am not lying to you."

A clawed hand reached out of the darkness and beckoned. Mavia forced her smile wider, as red torchlight flickered along the walls of the Blackened Shrine.

Fennore the Immortal spoke in the demon woman's mind. Of course a Bloodknight loyal to Kael'thas would play these sorts of games, with demon magic. _Go on, my Mistress of Oblivion. I will not abandon you…_

"I admit, my Lord, that—though I am _not _lying—I do still fear your wrath, after all this time. I hope that I have not done anything else to upset you, while I was absent?"

_Oh, how very good. I adore you in this moment, Mavia._

"Did you hear something?" Illidan asked.

"…only a fly buzzing in my ear." And then the succubus sat carefully in Illidan's lap.

The Demon Lord lay a large hand across her thighs. "What is it telling you?"

Just as fast, "That you missed me."

_Master Kael'thas says that he needs a little more. Mavia, please try harder. _

"Kael'thas?"

_Dammit, he's hearing me, speaking to you through our Soul link. He shouldn't be able to hear me—just listening—through the primary link he's already got between himself and Kael'thas._

_Perhaps, my sweet, stupid Fennore, if you would not speak so much._

"You know exactly where he is, Mavia."

"Yes, I do, Master Illidan." Mavia spoke carefully in the warm closeness between them, while Illidan smoothed a thumb up along the sticky meeting of her thighs. "Kael'thas escaped your plan to punish him at Tempest Keep because he founded the Coven of Two."

Illidan began to smile, "Yes… this is useful. Tell me more."

Mavia continued, "Fennore the Immortal, the Bloodknight healer, has… become a warlock," she winced, "who would never, never, ever betray your Kael'thas to the Knights of the Blood Nexus. As you long suspected—and I deserve to be punished for keeping it a secret, I apologize, my Master, but I am now the warlock's pet out of necessity, or so Fennore believes. And we both, at Kael'thas' instruction, have created a faction within the Nexus."

"Mmm… and so they are betrayed, I like it. You have come to set up court in my lap, NOT in his. Admit that the taste of my sex has never left your mouth. You crave me, and not Kael'thas." Illidan sniffed against Mavia's cheek.

_Mavia, Illidan is toying with another woman right now. It's incredibly hard to read him. He is thinking of Malfurion and Kael'thas at the same time… my, but isn't this hopelessly tangled up. What is this other face? Oh, what an enchanting woman-in-gold dress. Praying over him. Awww… that's sweet. I see, this is an usurped Mind Vision spell, from a priestess. If Illidan can eavesdrop on even prayers—that's more than a little bit disturbing, god-like behavior—then it's no surprise that the full Demon Lord is able to hear whispers of me directing you now, the technique being the same._

_But I'm directly in his lap—and in a demonic sense, as well as yours—for fel's sake! Am I not enough to snare either of you?! So this is the fate of the watered-down demoness. Made a Bloodknight too, or rather, given the kiss of fel-death._

_Please put your succubine pride aside, dear, when we're working… Light be damned?! It's Tyrande! Illidan is chatting up Tyrande!!!_

_WHAT?!_

"Yes, I also find this very hard to believe."

Mavia floundered, "…What is hard to believe, Master?"

Illidan smiled at her, dangerously. Handsome elven features were still strikingly evident, though demonic forces had pushed heavy horns up from his skull, and burned runes into that wide, expanding chest.

Breathy, "Play a little game with me, Tyra—Mavia. I did recently awaken, after all."

_Ugh… this is really getting awful. Does the Coven Master have what he needs yet?_

_Why in the hell is Illidan speaking to Tyrande? And that flapping-in-the wind gold number is really unbelievable… is she in her nightclothes, hanging desperately from the temple balcony in Darnassus? Really! Is he chatting her up all the way across the nether to Azeroth?_

_MASTER FENNORE!_

_It's just… incredible what he's saying to her. You should hear it, Mavia. Twisting her conscience like that…Well, you and I have both heard the 'Malfurion is not my brother' bit before, but now this thing about him needing to save Tyrande from herself, being able to 'end her' and 'begin her.' Now, if that isn't an allusion to fucking right in the middle of a theological discussion, I don't know what is…_

"I grow impatient with you, Maneater."

Mavia forced another smile, faced Illidan, and then let the sweat of their bodies allow her to slip, slow, from his grasp. But really only because her Master Illidan surely knew where Mavia was going. She ended on her knees before the throne, and parted the muscular wine-colored thighs.

The succubus paused before she committed to the act, a growl forming in her mind. _Fennore, I warn you, I am about to do something that you promised me I would never again have to do, under your control._

_A moment more… Oh, disgusting, he's attempting to speak to Kael'thas as well, when he's doing this. Good thing we found a way around that, though, Master Kael'thas can't hear him. Three Soul Links up at once? Really, my stomach is lurching as it is._

_When I return to Quel'danas, Master, I am going to kill you. _

"… Lady Vashj has fled Outland, and I cannot feel Kael'thas' Soul Link any longer. I miss him, Mavia."

Mavia made a face, and then licked up along the inside of Illidan's thigh. One small consolation in all of this. She could be honest, at least, in this one way. "Kael'thas? Yes, I miss him too."

White light flashed behind them and it woke up the other demon women in the room. Illidan stood, his brow flickered with guilt, and he threw Mavia aside.

_Disappear. I will call for you again when you are needed, you treacherous bitch._

Fennore wondered, _Wait, who's talking now?_

_I AM! Now, get the hell out of this channel. _That, of course, was Kael'thas.

_Tsk. Of all the names you've ever called me, my Prince…_

At last, silence.

Two.

Only two people remained when Illidan was done hiding the evidence of his true nature. Mavia had faded into shadow, disappeared. The pained look on Tyrande's face intimated that she had, grudgingly, always known. And now she was in the throne room of the Demon Lord of Outland.

Illidan watched Tyrande for a long time. Tyrande made fists at her sides and then unclenched her angry fingers. She raised her chin, and stopped her long elven ears from trembling too much.

"I hope you know that I don't consider you a man, for forcing me here like are not a man if you won't take responsibility for your own failures. Our love is a casualty of the war you started, Illidan. What will Fandral and the druids think of me now? The cause of the Sentinels is lost, my reputation ruined!"

"What sort of woman are you, who would not take responsibility for her own passions? This is about justice. We began something at the start of our lives that is not over yet. Elune and laws be damned!"

Jaina warned not to do this. Tyrande thought of their Alliance as Illidan swept her up off her feet—oh, he had practiced this sort of thing, so obvious. And then he strode to the bed grinning like a fiend, snapping webbed wings open when at last, he set her gently down on a wild fur pelt.

Tyrande said, "I know about you and Vashj."

Illidan kissed her hand, clearly considering his next move.

Tyrande slipped the littlest fingers of each hand beneath the straps of her golden robe, and let it fall gently free of her torso. "But who am I to judge? I hadn't any hope either. You went after the women you could have, and I allowed the one person I'd shackled myself to sneak away from his Emerald Dream and have me on rare, warm nights." She looked down at herself, ashamed. Illidan reached his hand out and felt dark bruises, finger-sized, along her hips. "Don't kill your brother. I was the one who did this."

"He hit you?"

"No, as I said… I bruised myself. I enlisted a stupid novice priest to help with the burns, because I wanted Malfurion to stop touching me. He thinks that I have another lover, a dangerous person… But I don't care, the result is that I haven't known a man—especially not Malfurion, in three whole years."

Illidan looked away. "Tyrande, why did you never tell me how terrible it was?"

"Because Malfurion thinks you are the very one who did this to me."

Illidan stood. "But why would you dare to go that far? Isn't the rift between Malfurion and I already enough of a gulf? And you and I have only ever spoken through magic, you never allowed me to tempt you. At that, if I'd succeeded after all these years, I would have never dealt with you so harshly." A growl, "You are not the woman I remember."

"Keep your hands there, Illidan." She seized his wrists and looked to him desperately. "Please, don't let go of me. I mean for you to fully understand. You see, when Malfurion found out… about the real affair I had, with some stupid young novice priest, I made it so that my husband would not shame me publicly, and give me over to my enemies among the druids. Malfurion would never want people to know, after struggling for thousands of years, that he lost me to his brother."

"But I never did get to have you." Illidan took a deep snuff of the air between them, then closed his eyes, savoring it. "Forgive me, when my mind is reasonably trapped elsewhere. It was a clever plan, Tyrande, I will give you that. But, you also risked that self-righteous bastard turning vengefully on you, like a rabid nightsaber."

"I was unhappy in my marriage, but I could not get out. Nor could I endure Malfurion's neglect any longer, Illidan. If Malfurion had become so angry with me, that he would have thrown me from the edge of Teldrassil… So be it. I would have rather died with him fully believing that he failed as a man and a husband, than to live as a victim of mad Ysera, her twisted Emerald Dream, and the over-proud men she collects to do her bidding. So much has changed between Malfurion and I over the years… but after Ysera got her claws into him, it became clear to me that there would be no going back."

Tyrande bowed her head and clutched the gold dress just beneath her belly button. Nude, but somehow modest now, her true shame having been revealed.

"It worked. Malfurion believed that it was you making a way for us to be together, with your dream magic. And better yet, knowing that you had grown in power that much frightened him. He believed that I belonged to you. Malfurion was afraid to find fault with me, and so anger you. In the end, he decided to tell his druids not to push the issue of my fidelity, and then went back to work in his Emerald Dream. But, that was not the end of the lie, Illidan. Not long after, my spies delivered news of your death at the hands of Saturna Whiteblade."

"Tyrande… I already told you what happened with Kael'thas' woman."

"Yes you did, but that was only months after the event. I knew, even before you spun a tale for me to believe, what had truly taken place."

Too calm, "Tell me, what was the name of your spy?"

"You were chasing Kael'thas' lover and forcing her to have sex with you, around the same time that I claimed to be the object of your adoration. I feared that, Malfurion, once he found out what you'd done, would see that I had been lying." Tyrande glared at Illidan, "Because if you could have had me at last, Illidan, everyone in Azeroth and beyond knows that you would never have ruined that chance."

"I wouldn't want for anything else in this life, that is true."

"I was dealing with so much at home in Darnassus, I wouldn't dare share with you what I was going through, alone. I didn't want to involve you, when I had no idea how you would react. I'd only just barely kept my husband and my position as High Priestess. But then I learned that you'd died. Before anyone else in Darnassus could catch wind of the news, I arranged to disappear. I meant to come to Outland, resurrect you and salvage the situation with your friend Kael'thas myself, if no one else had the courage. But, when I arrived… N'shatai told me what had happened. The Demon Huntress was my spy closest to you."

"The Night Elf Demon Huntress that Mavia killed… of course she belonged to you. She was a Stormrage of ancient relation, we share many physical and magical talents. Spitting image of me, really. N'shatai was one of my favorites, apple of my ego; I would have never suspected her."

"Yes, I had depended upon that for years—"

"I tried to set her up with Kael'thas once."

Tyrande blinked. "I… don't see why I ever needed to know that."

"I'm impressed at how you out-schemed me, Tyrande."

"But if it's all the same to you, let's not speak of your odd matchmaking skills again." Illidan laughed, but Tyrande spoke over him, "Soon after your attempted murder, N'shatai informed me that you had tricked the Bloodknight Fennore into healing you from the mortal wound Saturna gave. And Kael'thas had lived through it as well."

"Lady Vashj and I conspired to put a collar around Kael'thas' neck, so that he would not run off to the Burning Legion."

Tyrande nodded that she understood. "Crude, but efficient. And I also noticed that you were able to supplant Malfurion in your mind with Kael'thas, which eases the madness. Good."

Illidan looked at Tyrande as if he were seeing her for the first time.

"But you resolving the nasty situation on your own left me in a terrible situation. All the powerful people in Darnassus were holding their tongues because Malfurion did not want my affair with you—the imagined affair—to be made public. However, he would soon learn of what Saturna had suffered, and then the lie to my husband would be made obvious." Tyrande scratched her head, "And to have lied about sleeping with a man who was supposed to be my enemy, in addition to the real affair with another priest, too young for me… it all sounds so desperate, Illidan. Well, it was. I was frantic at the time. Now, the druids would learn of how desperate their High Priestess had become. They would believe my ability to rule had been compromised."

"…Has it been compromised?"

Tyrande smacked Illidan's shoulder. "You have a terrible sense of humor, Illidan Stormrage."

"But you didn't answer my question."

"And so I… I told my spies that I had a vision, and that they must help me to convey it properly to the kal'dorei. Together, we fabricated evidence that I was the one who fought you, Illidan, and left that white scar across your chest. I said that Elune bade me to do it, and then she inspired me to resurrect you, to show compassion and bring you back so that you could have another chance at life. I completed the effect by returning home and telling the druids that you, Illidan, had seduced and manipulated me all along and that I went down to the Black Temple to fight you in the interest of justice. I barely managed to convince them, with the help of my spies. In the end, they were more satisfied to believe that Kael'thas had made up the lie about some grand sacrifice by his fangirl lover, in order to redeem her after quarrelling with you, and save face before the Blood Elves. I think it was more that than my own marital distress that won the druids to my side. It was a useful story to share with the other leaders of the Alliance as well. Today, they all firmly believe that I was seduced by you and then went down to the Black Temple to triumph over you. They believe that Elune compelled me to do it, and that I am a good wife to Malfurion for making a stand against you. Well, not Jaina Proudmoore. She's been sniffing around me for years, but I don't trust her. Especially recently..."

"But Malfurion had been captured and imprisoned by my Fel Orcs long before then."

"Yes, without my knowledge, Malfurion went to confront you about the affair by himself. I only found this out later."

"Three years ago."

Tyrande nodded warily, and covered her face. Illidan sat down alongside her and thought. "The Night Elves now believe that Elune forgave me, for everything I've done in Outland."

"Yes, because I lied to them."

"But you are her High Priestess, it might as well be the truth. I can return home."

"I was never so foolish as to make them think exactly that. Illidan, didn't you ever wonder why I never came to see you here, in Outland? It wouldn't be a friendly visit, such a thing could never happen between us. You act like a villain. You lie and you murder. It would upset a great deal many people if you simply strode back into the holy city."

"However, there is a chance now that I can, because of you." Illidan leaned over and touched her cheek. "And that you were happy to lie to Malfurion, about having an affair with me… the longing behind that isn't lost on me, either, Tyrande. Why, when you knew how you felt in your heart of hearts, did you ever come to Outland intent on freeing my brother instead? Were you simply going to ignore your feelings for me?"

"Because I… it's very far-fetched, isn't it? Borne out of the desperate effort of a woman in a broken marriage who loved you, knew of the real trouble you were in when you transformed into a full Demon but chose to neglect you. Then, one day, I suddenly found myself mourning you. I just couldn't let it end like that between us! Perhaps thousands of years of waiting and hoping for either you or your brother to make me happy… has at last made me desperate and delirious! Illidan, it is amazing that Darnassus believes my lies, but in the end, I know that they would never accept us. We've both done too much. I became afraid when Jaina Proudmoore confided that Kael'thas might come and take you away from me again. And then, you have betrayed and hurt Kael'thas so much, I believed he had a right to seek justice. Perhaps I should have let him…"

"You would stand by if Kael'thas attacked me?"

"No, I would never let that happen again. Not to you, my true love… Oh, I am so confused. This isn't right, but yet I want it. And I've prayed about this, Illidan. I've begged Elune for guidance, but the goddess no longer speaks to me. Has she given up on me? The only thing I felt sure of when I left Darnassus for Outland was that Malfurion refuses to divorce me, so then there is more of a chance to reconcile with my husband and hold onto power whether Elune sends her moonlight to me or not, than there was ever a chance for you and I to make a nest in all this chaos."

Illidan kissed her cheek. "You are a politician then. I am impressed that you were able to risk so much, gamble with such high stakes and win, Tyrande."

"I gambled nothing. You brought me here without my consent… I fear I may regret that too."

"There is something about power, that only being a full Demon Lord has taught me." Illidan quickly banished sadness from his features, summoned anger to do it, "Sometimes, it is necessary to deceive, for the greater good. If the goddess Elune has ceased speaking to you, then perhaps it is not you who has gone astray, High Priestess. Suppose something is wrong in the world, and Elune can't reach you…"

"No, that's blasphemy. Don't begin to say things like that—"

"Ysera has gone mad. The blue dragons have forgotten themselves too, I've studied this. And the bronze, also the black… I had a vision once. I tried to explain to Kael'thas, but he wouldn't listen—"

"Oh, Illidan don't. No more of your mad fantasies about time travel and switching fathers… You have convinced yourself that Kael'thas is your brother and that is enough."

"Well then, will you at least consider, for once, that it isn't the gods who are perfect, inviolable. Perhaps we are pristine creations, only doing what we are meant, according to the natural order. If Cenarius can die, if the Titans can abandon us, if Hakkar can plot to corrupt mortal souls, and Arthas—a mere man—if he can claim to be a Death God… then Elune can fall silent when her people still need her." He whispered soft against Tyrande's ear, "And in that case, it is not your fault."

Tyrande opened her eyes wide, mesmerized by his words. "Oh Master Deceiver. I am afraid… I am afraid of what it might mean, if I don't believe you. It all makes such horrible sense."

"I am afraid of what will happen to you too, Tyrande, if you do not see what I see. Please, stay away from Malfurion. Remain here with me. I love you most."

"There is one problem with this plan, if we are going to try… Kael'thas _is_ coming to kill you."

Illidan finished undressing Tyrande. He kissed her old wounds. "Weren't you the one who gave me a conscience? Who told me to get to work on Kael'thas not long ago, while he was at Tempest Keep? You begged me to gain his forgiveness."

"But I never meant… Kael'thas would have to mean it, and you grow from it—"

"I am sitting next to a beautiful naked woman who lied to her husband about wanting me, and then went on to love and help me in unbelievable ways over the last three years, when I did not deserve it. Tyrande, it does not matter what anyone else thinks. Least of all Kael'thas, when I have him in my pocket. Is there any truth at all to the vision you fabricated? Do you, at least, forgive _me_?"

"I… I know how much you were hurting. What you did was wrong, but perhaps if I had been there for you all along…?"

Illidan kissed her. "No woman, Illidan sounded lost now, and he struggled, has ever loved me, as you have. But by the same token, surely you realize that, for how desperate and loyal you have made me, no man will ever love you again, as I do."

"Stop… twisting my thoughts… stealing the reigns from me."

"I won't. I can't. Impossible for me to think anymore, when you are so close, and breathing. You are finally, really here with me…Your sweet breath against my skin. Tyrande, my love, you started this, to save yourself from Malfurion, and now we have a chance together. You may have always lacked the true guile to follow it through, but I love that about you. And I believe… what you will soon love about me, is that I am mean enough to finish this deception. But only if you will choose me at last, Tyrande.

Now, swear it. Give yourself to Illidan and only Illidan, forever."

Tyrande moaned deep in her throat and embraced Illidan as he lay over her. "…I do."

"I asked you… to say my name."

"Faster, Illidan. Harder, Illidan. Bite me… Illidan."

One.

One final point of violet light remained, as Kael'thas blinked into view and the magic dissipated. He knew the dank smell of fel and brimstone that was the Blackened Shrine. He knew the cold stone throne, the table set with crumbling skulls, the shredded pieces of his favorite couch, the crimson stain on the floor, where Saturna's corpse had once lay mute and staring up at her murderer.

And, he also knew, painful and remarkable intimate awareness, what it looked like when Illidan Stormrage was completely unguarded. It was precisely at the moment—and Kael'thas began conjuring angry red flame now—the very moment that the selfish, unfeeling, manipulative Demon man had his pants down, given completely given over to lust—the one last real emotion a Demon could feel besides fear, hate, and pain—because lust was a kind of fear. It was, in truth, thick desperation, a terror very close to the heart where love resided. The real danger of love never being recognized or sated was a nightmare even the most evil of creatures could understand.

"You old fat ass… I hope you like your women charred." Kael'thas sneered, and let the fireball go. Mid-hump. Perfect timing.

Illidan's latest victim screamed while Kael'thas conjured another spell. This one, shadow. Illidan looked ridiculous, flapping his wings to put out the fire Kael'thas had set against the tattered webbed skin. There would be no flying away from this, no escape. Another flick of his palms. And now, an excellent purple shadow-burn bruised across Illidan's forehead.

"Ma'am, do you know what he did to the last woman he threw down on that fur pelt? The last, real, mortal woman he ever had?" Kael'thas blinked across the room once Illidan had his pants back up and sprinted toward him. "He took her wrists in one great greedy palm, stretched them high above her head. Then he forced her…" he couldn't even finish, "She's dead now, because of him! And this is what happens when ex-boyfriends, once-fiancés, robbed lovers, find out the truth and come back to settle the score, isn't it Illidan Stormrage?"

"Kael'thas! Stop it!"

"…Tyrande? What in fel are you doing—"

Then the Blood Elf Prince was knocked off of his feet. He had to scrape at the cracked marble floor to stop from sliding, cut his finger-tips in the process. Pain was clear on his face as he looked up, lit by the green runes glowing fiercely across Illidan's chest as he strutted near.

"She knows, Kael'thas. And she doesn't care. Tyrande loves me. She forgives me."

"How long have you been playing mind games with her, for hours? It took less than a day for you to get to Saturna, and after three years, I am not going to—"

Illidan flinched and glanced all around the dark room. Kael'thas had disappeared, mid-sentence.

Up on the roof of the Black Temple, jagged gray stone, resembling worn elekk tusks warmed to bright white as the Bloodmage re-appeared, holding Tyrande close. Sparkling bits of violet light shimmered into infinitesimal nothing as the blink spell faded.

"You need to stay away from Illidan. It's safe up here—"

"I told you, Kael'thas," Tyrande pushed away from him and pulled her dress back on. "I love him, I _want _to be with him. And I didn't ask for you to save me."

"Ask me?" Kael'thas pulled on his hair, almost clear out of his skull. "What is WRONG with you, with women these days? That man is insane. He is a rapist and a murderer, it doesn't beg for polite consideration. What are you even doing here, with him? Where is your husband?"

"I don't belong to Malfurion. I want to be with Illidan. We finally have a chance, Kael'thas, listen to me. The people of Darnassus believe that he has been forgiven and it is possible for Illidan to walk away from all of this—"

But when Tyrande turned back around, Kael'thas was gone.

Back down below, Illidan had been ready for him. Kael'thas appeared again, but was soon swept off his feet by the force of curved black horns coming at him. He was rammed against the stone wall, hard. Kael'thas felt the back of his head slam against stone, and then his hair stuck hot against his neck. Red blood, everywhere.

"Tyrande belongs to me. Darnassus belongs to me. You can't stop us."

Kael'thas struggled to get up.

"Did you really come here all by yourself to kill me? Where are your feckless Bloodknights?"

"I would have had the advantage if not for Tyrande…"

Illidan reached out one claw, and Kael'thas cringed, as if he felt a new pain around his neck. But then, nothing.

"Your collar…" Illidan grasped at his own neck now, struggled to breathe.

"I reversed the spell. It took me three years to figure out how to do that. How does it feel?"

Then Kael'thas set his hand-in-glove on fire and punched Illidan in the face.

The inverted collar spell was only a momentary distraction, when Illidan found that not using it against Kael'thas was the way to disempower his slave from reflecting the pain back. Illidan went to get his hand scythes, the twin blades of Azzinoth, and then came around to find a wild phoenix diving at him from the domed black ceiling above. Kael'thas had disappeared again, the place was filled with black smoke. Had he seen the faint flicker of a moonbeam?

Kael'thas came to on the rooftop. Tyrande just finished healing him. "He cracked your skull, you need to stay away from the walls."

"Thanks for the advice, I didn't know we were on the same team. Also, WILL YOU STOP GETTING IN THE WAY OF ME MURDERING THAT MAN?!"

He blinked again, but re-constituted face-to-face with Tyrande, still on the rooftop. "Tyrande Whisperwind, are you counter-acting my spells somehow?"

"It's a faint form of mind control; I've learned a few tricks over the last few thousands of years. Now, listen to me. No one is going to kill anyone else. I have found a way for you and Illidan to live, separately, and in peace."

"Illidan has been waiting to kill me all this time. It is so obvious to me, why don't you realize that? My life was never guaranteed, the moment I become a real threat to him—and your appearance here, ironically, is most likely the last straw—Illidan is sure to eliminate me, when he knows that he can't trust me. But make no mistake, this is not just about survival. I want justice."

"Let him bear the full burden of all he has trespassed in this life. Let me take him home, to Darnassus."

"Whatever lies you told your people… it won't be enough, trust me. You will have to re-take the city as if it were enemy territory. Are you prepared to do that? No, let me handle Illidan for you. I have been preparing for this day."

"But it isn't necessary to fight!"

Kael'thas finally gave up and unleashed a fireball on the High Priestess. Then, he leaned over the edge of the roof, whistled, and threw himself over the edge.

Skybender the phoenix burst through the rock wall of the Black Temple to receive his master, and Kael'thas turned around in the saddle to see that Illidan was in fast pursuit. "How did his wings heal so damned fast, Skybender?"

A hoarse, windy chime was the response.

A phoenix could out-fly a Demon Lord, but not by much. Kael'thas had no need to push the tireless creature, and launched missile after fiery missile at Illidan. While in flight, Illidan was forced to dive and dodge the attacks.

"Who healed you?!" Illidan demanded when he noticed, "Fennore and Mavia are still here, aren't they?"

"It was your high-maintenance, High Priestess girlfriend!"

Flash of white moonlight followed that. The strike knocked Kael'thas from the saddle.

Tyrande was barely within reach, on the back of a white Hippogryph. "I am not… high maintenance."

Illidan clipped his wings up above and dove after Kael'thas. He sheathed his hand-scythes as he fell faster and faster, snatched desperately at Kael'thas as the Blood Elf plummeted toward gray earth. A final look of horror crossed Kael'thas' face, and Illidan reached both arms out to him, regretful.

Then bright blue flame erupted in a flat miasma when they touched. Tyrande's scream tore through the night, and Skybender whipped just below Kael'thas in a hot yellow streak of flame. The two flew a safe distance away, and then soared, looking…

Illidan should have been cut in two. But a few miles off, he lay on the ground, struggling to breathe—and Tyrande knelt close by in her golden dress, healing him.

"Dammit, Tyrande!"

Illidan said something similar when he revived.

"Well, what do you two expect? Am I supposed to just let you die?"

"We are fighting, man to man. I can't win, because of you! And, you already healed Kael'thas."

"You just tried to save him, yourself." Tyrande put hands on her hips.

"But he'd tricked me into it. It was clever. And Kael'thas did, actually, cut me in two with flame—I couldn't believe it."

"I swear to Elune, if you say that 'it was so awesome' I am going to moonfire you until the nightsabers come home!"

A screeching, avian warcry filled the air. Tyrande bent over and covered her long ears. Illidan reached up when Skybender passed overhead, and let the fast bird take him away.

Kael'thas informed Illidan, "We are going someplace else to fight, where she can't bother us."

"Agreed."

High atop Mount Gul'dan, Kael'thas and Illidan faced off. Nothing but black sky above them now, and rapids of slime-green fel lava gushing and swirling thousands of miles below that black peak. Kael'thas rolled up his sleeves and Illidan tossed aside his hand scythes.

"Our magic _is_ equal, all things considered."

Kael'thas nodded. "You have spells, I have spells, that cancels out."

"…Naturally." Illidan made fists too.

Kael'thas spread his feet apart. "Skybender can fly, and so can you. We might as well eliminate that too, since there isn't any room up here for that either. And… we don't want to make a spectacle, or Tyrande might find us. But, don't you think for a moment that I can't still whip you."

A groan, "…This is silly."

"Why! Why did you bring Tyrande to the Black Temple?"

"I didn't _bring_ her, Kael'thas, she came by herself!"

"But you knew I was coming."

"…So? She can't come over sometimes?"

"That's not the point. I've been preparing this for days."

"Yes, yes, I mean, you only ever spoke about wanting to kill me all of the time, Kael'thas. Most frequently when Tempest Keep burned a little while ago. Before she showed up, I had been hibernating, saving my strength."

"Oh. Well, that makes sense. I guess."

"Fennore is a warlock now too, Mavia said... He can project through my Soul Link, can't he?"

"Yes. I tried to predict our fight, but for some reason, the incompetent didn't tell me anything about Tyrande showing up."

"It's not your fault. I was onto him. And also, my Tyrande has always been very distracting." Illidan smiled.

For some reason, they both sat down. They were sort of wheezing and cracking their necks before that anyways, buying time.

"I hate you. I want to kill you, Illidan. But…"

"I know. Not like this." Illidan crouched and hung his head. "Figures. We would get back together on the last day of my life, I suppose."

Kael'thas closed his eyes, meditating. "You and Tyrande don't have a chance in Fel together anyway. Not like me and Saturna."

Illidan just sat there. Kael'thas tried to keep a straight face, but the mistake was only too obvious. _Shit._

"She's dead."

Panicked, "Yes, Saturna is dead. Because YOU killed her!"

The skin around Illidan's nose wrinkled. "No… Saturna isn't dead. Is she, Kael'thas?"

Kael'thas unsheathed his Mageblade, Illidan flared his—well, burnt up—wings. Kael'thas had no advantage, he lashed out desperately. Illidan grabbed the man's wrist, pulled him around. They wrestled for control of the blade, but then Illidan slammed Kael'thas' fist into the stone ground, making the precious conjuring hand useless. The Mageblade clattered and scraped along until it feel over the edge of rock.

Illidan put both hands around Kael'thas' neck. "I could have snapped your neck several moments ago. But, I wanted to see what you really wanted."

"…I want you to die."

"Why did you attack me alone? And coming at me with a mere knife, that was not an intelligent effort either. Where are the Demon pets suddenly conjured from the shadows? The Mechanar-made time bomb ticking beneath this mountain? And then you try to distract me with… with panicked lies!"

Kael'thas smiled, "Did I finally make you panic? After all these years…"

"This does not resemble years' worth of planning. I am no fool, Kael'thas. What is your bargain?"

"No bargain… If you are going to kill me, then kill me."

Illidan tightened his grip. "As you wish. You fool. But it does not have to end this way. Not when we are brothers."

Kael'thas began to spit up blood.

"…Is that why you came here, like this, with no witnesses? Not even with a Demon pet conjured? Do you want to finally be brothers?"

Kael'thas said, "Never… you would never let me. With Tyrande here," gruesome coughing, "You have a reason to live and forget about all we sacrificed."

"But if Saturna is alive…" Illidan stammered, "Then you have every reason to deceive me, to use me… Unless I use you back. No, Saturna hasn't survived. Lady Vashj made that impossible. You want me to think that I have no other choice, but to take control."

"I killed Vashj." A sick, lustful smile, teeth smeared with blood. "I flash-fried her, and all her minions, even the tortoises… in the Northern Sea."

Illidan shook Kael'thas by the collar of his robe. "What were you doing in the Northern Sea? Trying to take back Quel'thalas."

"I can do whatever I want now. Not even you can stop me—"

The certain snap of bone, beneath Illidan's nervous, large fingers. Kael'thas' face contorted in pain. His eyes roved to the top of his head. "Not everything…" Illidan corrected. "I just crushed your windpipe. You won't live for much longer. Haven't you learned by now? There never is a warning before strike three with me."

Illidan sat back, and flexed his trembling hands. "Now, you finally have a choice. You can live with me, in the way that I have always wanted, Kael'thas… or not live at all. I cannot live with a brother who would betray me again. I couldn't stand it."

Illidan sliced a claw across the inside of his violet wrist, and let the blood drip into a pool beside Kael'thas' face. Impossible for him not to see it. Impossible for the warlock to misunderstand.

"Give me your hand. Indulge my madness. Forgive me. That is all that I ask. Agree to live in this world with me, as an equal and a friend, not as a monster who betrayed you. I am sorry Kael'thas. I am so very sorry for hurting you and torturing you… in exchange, you will be all-powerful… and free. Free to do as you wish, with me by your side. This is your last chance."

Illidan certainly tried to force the answer through the collar around Kael'thas' neck, but the powerful warlock resisted, even now. Kael'thas managed a smirk at the end, as tears slipped from the edges of his eyes.

And then, he seized Illidan's claw with such life and passionate defiance, that there could be no mistake it had been Kael'thas' darkest wish all along.

Illidan worked quickly, opening his friend's wrist with a twin cut. Next, he knelt and scrawled runes in the blood between them. It clotted black; at one time Kael'thas had, in fact, loved and done favors for the Legion. Illidan ignored the remnants of that foul seduction still in Kael'thas' veins. They twined fingers. Purple magic boiled up from the mix. Smoke caught beneath their wrists, made their palms sweat and run, built pressure, scalded the skin but yet they both knew to still hold on. And then it burst between their fingers, blew their hands apart from one another. Kael'thas was pushed over onto his side with the force, and Illidan jolted back. His wings caught in the sudden updraft and he was forced from the mountain.

When Kael'thas opened his eyes again, he was alone. How much time had passed? Perhaps it had all been just a dream. "…Illidan?"

The powerful Demon pitched down from the sky and landed on all fours. Ground shook. "Yes, my Master? I was flying overhead while you rested, keeping watch."

Kael'thas rubbed the inside of his wrist. The veins, all of them, had gone completely black. "You didn't even go to Tyrande while I was out, did you? That's the greatest longing of your heart, I can feel it. Taste it."

"You did not give me permission to do so, blood-brother."

Kael'thas smiled. He really smiled. "Guess what, Illidan?"

"What?"

"Saturna _is_ alive."

Illidan stood and bowed his head, horns lowered menacingly at Kael'thas. "Yes, I sensed that as well. How did you ever manage to betray me for so long—"

"Is that all you feel, now that I've outsmarted you? Just… betrayed? Aren't you angry? Jealous? Torn up with lust that I've been sleeping with her these last two weeks, happily married to her, and that was the only reason I was not here, slaving after you?"

"I… feel…"

"Come now, your emotions shouldn't still be all broken. This new link with me must have fixed that."

"…happy… for you." Illidan folded hands ontop of his head, and pinched elbows before his face. He tried to rid himself of the notion, but it wouldn't go. "I… she was the only one who ever made you happy. I couldn't even… and she is the mother of your son. And such relief, that the damage I did, when I lost myself in anger and took revenge on her… she has a second chance at life, and so do you. Thank the heavens! Thank Elune!" Illidan raised his dark claws in praise.

Kael'thas was horrified. "No. You aren't happy, you're supposed to feel guilty."

"I've been drowning in guilt for three years, Kael'thas, and Tyrande's prayers for me have been answered. I was so far gone, with Gul'dan's consuming magic, that I could not even pray for myself. But she was right to, I have been delivered! Come, let's celebrate. And you're getting your kingdom back as well, regaining the love and support of your people, after Vashj and I delayed you… this is a glorious day. I want to see Saturna, I want to thank her—"

Kael'thas held out his hand. "You will do no such thing. In fact, you will never again speak her name, or ever reveal yourself to her. Nor to my son. And I don't trust you, I don't believe that you are truly capable of this joy—"

Kael'thas clutched his stomach. Illidan sensed it too, his wings wilted.

"My son… he is not my son. Belorim… is your son?"

"I told you this many times."

"No, you did not! You spoke around the truth, you avoided it… you never made it so clear to me as our Soul Link together is proclaiming it now. And there are so many other secrets between us… the Soul Link never was balanced, was it? But now the pendulum is swinging back my way, directly into my gut, ripping through my very heart!"

"I'm sorry… in my state, I believed that giving my son to you, would help you. The son I had with… the woman whose name I am forbidden to speak. Kael'thas, I beg you to keep him. The boy loves you and knows you, not me. He is terrified of me, and rightfully so. I knew all along that he was mine. I also knew that someone powerful had helped him to come to be when he had no reason to survive what I did to his mother… and he was smart and capable, he was conjuring magic to hide his hooves and horns. You even failed to see the truth."

Kael'thas clawed the sides of his face, paced in a circle. "No… no, this isn't happening. What else? Tyrande has told you that you can go home to Darnassus?"

"Yes, it is a miracle, Kael'thas! And you have helped me… to feel remorse, at last. To feel compassion. To hug you and really mean it—"

"Get off of me!" because Illidan had got to hugging him. "No, you aren't going anywhere. You took so much from me, what in the world makes you think that I would do anything less than make you suffer."

"But I am fully healed now. I haven't felt this clear-minded in so long. Perhaps, not since Cenarius lived."

Kael'thas laughed. "Yes, go on, blame your madness. Well, I've hardened my heart. I am finally seeing all the lies and tricks you've played over the years… it's all playing before my eyes right now, through this putrid Soul Link. You were always in full control of your actions, Illidan Stormrage, and the truth is, you chose to be evil. You chose to murder and threaten me, rape the woman I loved, because you liked the thrill of using so much power. And we were all your pets, trapped beside you, incapable of leaving, chained to the abuse. The world was exactly the way you wanted it, and that, in fact is the vision you had in mind when you forced me to enslave you just now—"

"You had the choice to make for yourself! You gave me your hand, if not then I would have gladly let you die. Is this how you regard me, with no love at all? I wouldn't want to live in that world."

"You are still insane!" Kael'thas shoved Illidan. Illidan was a whole head higher, and it must have felt like reaching up to push his own overbearing father when he was a rebellious young man, "Not long ago you were spewing filth about hating me and not really needing me, except as a brother and plaything, and now you are clinging to these fresh ideas of brotherly love—that is, forgiveness, moving on. And you are going to stand here and tell me that I was always the one in the wrong, who misjudged you? You may have a heart now, you Demon, but you are still the same manipulative bastard who ruined my life!"

"And I see that you have gained my anger and guile."

Kael'thas raised his right hand. Nothing happened at first, but then a flicker of silver flashed between them, and suddenly, the magical Mageblade was back in his hand. "Nice trick, wasn't it?"

"The blade? Well… if it amuses you to call it up from where it fell on the rocks below, then I am happy for you Kael'thas."

"Stop being happy for me!"

"I'm sorry."

Kael'thas raged. "Had it never occurred to you that there was a third option, throughout all these years of tempting me and controlling me? That, perhaps, my hate for you could be so perfect and final… I might find another way out of my situation."

"I put the collar on you to prevent you from joining the Burning Legion, Kael'thas. And the person you thought was Kil'jaeden turned out to be an impersonator. If you are looking for me to apologize for making that path so treacherous for you that it was impossible to take, if I could not completely shut the door, then you won't get one. Wear that collar I gave you with pride."

"I am not talking about the Burning Legion." Kael'thas stalked closer to Illidan, and licked the blade.

"Stop it, Kael'thas. I have been where you are now. You must resist the temptation to abuse the power, or it will destroy you—"

Kael'thas chuckled, put a kindly hand on Illidan's shoulder, and then stabbed him in the side. Stabbed, twisted until he could hear something burst and rip.

"Maybe… I'd like to have all of your power, but none of the mess of dealing with you? Maybe I'd be content to enslave you, own you, and then leave you for dead."

Then, Kael'thas kicked Illidan free of the knife. The full Demon Lord fell and struggled. Kael'thas stood there, cruelly scientific, and made sure that his newest Demon pet bled to death.

Tyrande found Kael'thas by then. She landed her white Hippogryph and went immediately to Illidan.

"No…" she attempted to heal and restore her fallen love.

"You can't do that, Tyrande." Kael'thas shrugged, and looked lost. "I separated his soul from his body—"

"You're sick. You would do to him what he did to Saturna? Why would you make me suffer like this!" she wept, "Do you know that he and I have fought for our entire lives…"

"Shh… shh. Don't cry Tyrande. Illidan would not have wanted you to cry. He would want you to go back to your husband and live on, as if he never existed, like his life never mattered."

"You've become a monster! Did you enslave him? That's the only way you could have overpowered him like this. And he was whole before you killed him, wasn't he? He was cured at last… but still you… Oh, Oscur'Shalak."

"Seer in the Night? Is that what that means?" Kael'thas laughed to himself at first, but then it made his chest expand, rose up in his throat, and he smiled. "Was he a prophet? Then why didn't he see his own death coming?"

"Because, in the end, I gave him hope."

Kael'thas sheathed his dagger and smoothed his blonde hair back casually. "Then… I guess you shouldn't have." Violet magic flared up to shroud Kael'thas, and ended in sparking points of light as he disappeared.

But the voice of King Kael'thas Olvi'athon Sunstrider persisted, "And now I go home to my hot-fangirl wife, to my shining kingdom… to raise Illidan's son that he gave away, rule with all of his power… to live happily ever after."

Tyrande held Illidan's lifeless hand over her own heart, and begged him to come back, even as Kael'thas' words floated over them. So damning, even to someone who had lived his entire life trapped in so much anger, who could only manage, in the end, though it had been his greatest, most passionate effort—to love Kael'thas, if not Malfurion… Illidan had always been broken.

"May you, my beloved darling, my one and true love, rest in peace." Then their lips parted, and Tyrande knew there were no more souls left to save.

None.

A few days later...

_Dear Arthas,_

_I've written, re-written, and torn up this letter many times now. I don't know why I feel compelled to tell you what is going to be common knowledge very soon, anyways… But my spies confirmed it: Tyrande got upset after a little chat we had, and then she ran off to see Illidan. I guess I pushed her into finally picking a side. Then Kael'thas showed up at the Black Temple, and those two finally fought… no sign of either Night Elf, now. Kael'thas got away. Perhaps Tyrande and Illidan are both dead? Somehow… I sense you want me to tell you all of this. You must hate being stuck in Icecrown, and not knowing anything about our world, or our old friends. Well, there are still people who love you. If you get a chance, maybe you can say a prayer for Kael'thas. Thrall and I… I can't say anymore, but we're prepared to make him face the music, if he tries to start any trouble in Azeroth._

_Arthas, will you write back, or at least send word of how you're really doing? I haven't seen you in years, and ever since your first letter... I'm starting miss you all over again._

_I will try and keep you posted as more things regarding our old friend Kael'thas develop._

_Stay warm and lots of hearts,_

_Jaina_

Arthas stretched out on the bed and crumpled Jaina's letter. As for the scribe herself, she lay--frosted blue--and dozing only inches away.

"Thank you for the letter dear, though it wasn't necessary when my Deathknights can always fit in anywhere and just come and pick you up after assignment." He grinned, leaned in and kissed her cheek. "Good work, by the way! Now, are you ready for your next little job? I think I'm really going to like the charming, 'don't you wish your minion was hot like me' spin you tend to put on things. It drives the women wild, sends them running to Outland in jealous, feral rages. And you haven't even used your elite magic skillz yet. I can't wait to see what your cute little tactics do to the men. Jaina? Wake up my dear... Oh, Zabran, get the wine again, she's too cold."

"Ugh... Yes, Masta Arthas."

"Zabraaaan, why so glum? Popscicle?"

"Ugh... No, Masta Arthas."

"Hrmph, you just can't please some minions."


	3. Totems, totems, TOTEMS!

**Revenge of Kael'thas**

**Chapter Two: Totems, Totems, TOTEMS!!!**

_Man of my dreams. _

_Tall, cruel, and handsome. Mean enough to keep all the bad guys afraid. And when he kisses…_

Kael'thas kissed Saturna now.

_My breath, all stolen away._

"Are you alright?"

Saturna snuggled into his warm chest and let herself be rocked slowly. "Never."

"So then," he sucked her bottom lip and smiled. "Does that mean I should give up on you? Or, would you like me to keep trying forever?"

_Far, far away…_

"Well, the reality is… I am going to outlive you."

"Oh, Saturna, don't—"

"It's true. I've died and Anveena brought me back. This new form, it's sort of unliving, Kael'thas. I'm immortal. I must be."

"Look up at me. I will be right there with you until the end, I promise."

"But haven't we had enough of you making promises that you can't keep?"

Kael'thas released his wife and wandered back to the desk in his office. He leaned a knuckle on the wood and listened. Tempest Keep was unusually quiet this morning.

"I was waiting to save this until we were back in Silvermoon with... Belorim, and you made Queen. Our family absolutely safe. But clearly, you don't feel safe. And when I can just prevent it… Saturna, I'm not sure how to tell you, what I've done."

"It has to do with where you were yesterday, doesn't it? I was afraid for you, and Sorn wouldn't tell me."

"I killed him. Illidan. Illidan is dead, Saturna."

She swallowed. Breathing now was doubly hard.

"I… I did the one thing he did not expect. I came to the Black Temple alone, I bargained with him… but before even that, I had Fennore use his talent with the Soul Link to predict the entire battle. Alright, well it was a good idea at first, but it did little good. Tyrande was there, getting in my way--"

"Tyrande! What has she got to do with any of this?"

"That doesn't matter anymore. I let Illidan get the advantage. I toyed with him until he couldn't take the suspense. He always guesses my every move. This time, I let him guess that I had already started to move on without him, get my kingdom back, and you--"

"He knows that I'm alive? Oh my goodness. Oh no, how could you--"

"Saturna!" Kael'thas yelled at her. It took an effort for him to control his voice, let the rage go. "He panicked, and then I... Well, that is when I stabbed him with the Mageblade."

"Just like that? When he wasn't looking, a knife to the heart."

"Why does it sound like you don't believe me? You're here, aren't you? I would never allow you to reveal yourself in Tempest Keep with the Illidari spies around, with my collar and all, but that's just it. I wanted to give you the comfort of a goodbye before today's battle, when he can't hear me anymore, Saturna. The collar doesn't work. His spies running around on this ship are useless without their Master. That is because Illidan—the tortured man who murdered and raped you, swore that he was my brother, he is finally dead!"

Saturna leaned over and held her stomach. "No… you're lying to me, again. It can't have been that easy? I… he's really gone? For thousands of years… Tyrande and Malfurion were even afraid to… a part of me was so terrified that it would never end…" Saturna's blue translucent skin flushed purple. She went down on one knee and then another. "You… really did this? Then Belorim and I, our family finally has a future."

Kael'thas ran to catch Saturna before she fainted. "I promise."

"Swear to me, Kael'thas… this is real? I'm not dreaming, am I? I'm not still in the grave and dreaming, trapped in the sword…"

"I just promised you, I swore it, didn't you hear me?!"

Saturna flinched at his quick temper. Kael'thas held her close, this time, because he was the one afraid to show his face.

_Woman of my dreams._

_Sweet, beautiful, and naïve. Loving enough to follow me through any trial set by my enemies. And when she kisses me…_

Saturna pulled Kael'thas down ontop of her, and kissed gratefully all over his face.

"I love you Kael'thas Olvi'athon Sunstrider. You are my very sunrise, do you understand? I could not go on without you, I live for you."

_Impossible to go astray._

"And so… you see, for that reason, I am going to do my best, Saturna. So don't worry about which one of us will age or pass away first. With this new power I will be able to—"

"Shh… whatever time we do have together, you have made me happy enough to last a thousand lifetimes. I don't need any more explanations."

_Even if I must lie a little bit more, every single day._

"I am going to live forever, Saturna." Illidan's stolen power would make it so. But what if he told her that, before the Demon Lord died, he'd joined completely with him, warlock to demon slave, flesh to soul, will to will with her murderer? Truly become Illidan's brother after she fought so hard over the years, begged him to resist the dark promise of absolute, corrupting power. That had been the catch, the trick. It made the Mageblade slide between his ribs so easily...

"Of course you will, dear." Kael'thas did not reassure her any further. No, he could never give Saturna a real reason to hope or ever believe him. The truth stung.

Sorn announced that the Sunfury were ready for their King, soon after.

"Technically, not yet." Saturna smiled gratefully, and Kael'thas helped her up.

"You would be the one to remind me of something like that."

"... Are you angry with me?"

"No. Do I sound angry?"

"Ever since you got back from the Black Temple, you've sounded on the verge of smashing your fist through wall. It couldn't have been easy, Kael'thas, I know that, but aren't you... relieved, that Illidan is dead?"

Kael'thas ran fingers nervously through his hair. His red gloves brushed up a bit, revealing the black veins. He quickly tugged the gloves back down, and walked past Saturna. "Where's... our son? I want to say good bye to him."

"You're not angry at Belorim, are you? If it isn't me. But I don't recall him doing anything naughty recently?"

"Will you get off my back?!! I just murdered my best friend, in cold blood, for you. What else could you possibly want from me?"

Saturna re-ghosted, disappeared. "Oh Sunshine... I don't even think... You realize what you just said to me..."

_In the Foyer…_

Saturna could not be there. And the nasty look General Blaize gave Kael'thas, even unaware of her existence, confirmed that it had been a sound idea to leave her out of the equation, for now.

"We are going to kill Blood Elves." Kael'thas paced before his soldiers. "Force yourselves to accept that now. I have met with unthinkable success here in Outland, I have led you—along with your General—to glory in Netherstorm, especially. But the nonbelievers, the anti-monarchists and the selfish will refuse to acknowledge that lone fact: I am good at what I do. These disloyal Blood Elves are the citizens of Silvermoon I order you to kill."

More than a few soldiers in red helmets paled.

"That is my throne, and it is our city. Not because I was born to it. Not because we are returning home as conquerors. It is because we are the only ones who know everything that occurred here in Outland. We learned all of Illidan's secrets while we were forced to indulge his madness while at the Black Temple. And, when we returned to Tempest Keep, the Sin'dorei stronghold in this forsaken realm, we saw, first-hand, how the Legion tried, but failed—"

"Failed? He was one psychotic fanboy away from actually being in Kil'jaeden's lap, am I right?" Sunthraze elbowed Fennore hard, from where the Knights of the Blood Nexus had most certainly been placed, at the back of the assembly. Liadrin quickly nabbed Sunthraze by the earlobe and threatened him to stay quiet.

A clearing of Kael'thas' throat, "They _failed_ to take us down, or to tempt us! We used Illidan for his fel magic mana tap technique. We _borrowed_ the Fel Reaver…"

"Ha!"

"Shh, Fennore, I'm surprised at you of all people!"

"We are going home with the truth. Anyone who is not loyal to their King or his army who fought so hard over the years will face his demise. Your brothers, your sisters, your mothers and your fathers have had plenty of time to decide what is right, and what is wrong. Advisor Sorn has sent the word ahead of us. Rommath agreed to implement it on my behalf. Anyone not safely in their homes, anyone out in the streets posing a resistance at the hour of my succession will be killed. FOR THE SUN!"

It sounded evil and vile. But the Sunfury had no other choice. And, of course, to have come this far with Kael'thas in Outland, it must have also sounded precariously right, in their ears.

Blaize drew his sword and stood before them next. "If we have any hope of preventing civil war through upholding the new curfew law in Silvermoon, then it will be necessary to enforce every law from the moment we arrive. Kael'thas will be King. He is the only one who can ensure stability in Quel'thalas. Attention!"

Swords were drawn. Magisters conjured magic and held their staves at the ready. Kael'thas shouted before Blaize could steal all the momentum,

"One more glorious announcement!"

Sorn was beside Kael'thas and nearly dropped his clipboard. "My Liege, perhaps not... right at this moment--"

"Last night, while you were enjoying your final meals, and gratefully, from the silver troughs I set out for you these past three years..."

Blaize smacked his forehead.

"At that very hour, I stood over the corpse of Illidan Stormrage, with this bloodied blade" and it was still stained. Many soldiers gasped and recoiled at the sight of that, "and thought upon all the wonderful things a Blood Elf can do, and will do in the new Quel'thalas."

Something like crickets.

"Didn't you hear me? I killed Illidan! We're all free of his manipulations at last. Raise up a cheer for your King!"

Concerned whispers, now.

"Kael'thas, stop it! No one is going to believe that you single-handedly killed the infamous Bill Blunderage." Blaize snatched his own helmet off angrily.

"Who calls him that? I never did."

"And you didn't kill him either, not without an army, nor strategy, or some kind of amazing trick. If you think this ruse is going to finally win them over for you, boost morale, then you're truly an incompetent like nothing I've seen before in any womanizing, magic-popping, kingdom-wrecking Sunstrider who ever came before you!"

Sorn struggled to readjust his monacle. Kael'thas was giving off very many shades of angry red Bloodmage energy, according to Sorn's reception. "Gentlemen, please. And Kael'thas, don't you dare strike him in front of your army. Wasn't your goal just now to rile them up?"

"But I really did kill him, Sorn! You _know_ I did!"

"Wait, how would he know, when the old man was here all of last night. Is Sorn in on it? What have you two got up your sleeves?"

"Sorn, I want this man dead--"

"...Not yet!"

"Not what?!" Blaize looked from one to the other of them, afright.

"Kael'thas, come to your senses, already! The entire Sunfury Army is watching you. Now, tell Blaize to give the order."

Blaize went, "Oh, I don't have to be told, this is insanity. FORWARD MARCH!" and then privately again, "Sorn, you go and run right now, get him his bottle or latest Bloodknight whore or something. Because I am not going into the thick of battle with our most powerful fighter half-cocked. And don't you raise your voice at me like that in front of the soldiers again, Kael'thas, unless you want us all to be steamrolled by angry peasants." then Blaize marched off.

"Sorn! I am the King, and what I say should never be questioned."

"Need I remind you that we have an elaborate plan? Let's not get hasty and warn our scapegoats before it's time for them to be roasted. Now, get your bearings. What you... did to Illidan before he died, has clearly gone to your head."

"What right have you to judge me and tell me what I am and am not capable of?"

"Your roots are showing." then Sorn went back to inspecting the lines, marking off who was present.

Thousands of elves went through the shimmering portals, afraid to look anywhere else, but home. Kael'thas grabbed off someone's polished helmet to look at himself. Sure enough, the hair at his scalp had turned black. But he never died his hair. "No... it's actually, a very rich shade of fel-green." Perhaps horns and hooves would come next.

_Illidan, you bastard! _Kael'thas thought angrily, _What kind of dark gift is this? _

But the Soul Link had been emptied hours ago. No one was going to feel sorry for the new evil King Kael'thas.

_At the Sunspire…_

Seven Knights of the Blood Nexus stayed with the future King of Quel'thalas. Daphne and Fennore remained on either side of him as they walked through the palace in Silvermoon, and Kael'thas strode with a dangerous, expectant casual gait. His nonchalance made those with him all the more nervous. Suddenly, a palace guard raced into the throne room, raising his shield, but Kael'thas shouted how disloyal it was and cast a fireball before his new personal Bloodknight guard could get to the man.

"Rommath and Lorth'remar are up in the balcony, Kael'thas!" Daphne warned.

…waving white flags.

Kael'thas flashed a smile at both men. It was only clear what the arrangement between a cousin to the new Sunstrider King, or between mages had been. "Where's Halduron?"

Lorth'remar managed to speak with dignity though he was being patted down by zealous Bloodknights at the moment. "The Ranger General is over on Quel'danas Isle with… Anveena."

"I see. Rommath, are the people compliant?" Kael'thas stood in front of his throne. There were a few more defiant palace guard that Tempestraven and the others took down quickly.

"The people are with us. I worked very hard over the last two weeks to sway them. It seems, however, that some of the palace guard felt they would rather die with honor."

"They've adopted Horde values? Let's hope the rest of my subjects aren't so stupid."

Pyorin came running down a red carpeted spiral staircase, from the East wing of the palace. "It's odd, the whole place is secure. There aren't even any more palace guards. In fact, I don't see anyone else around, Kael'thas. No maids, no stewards, nothing."

A relieved smile. "Good job, everyone. And to Rommath especially, thank you for keeping it warm for me." Next, Kael'thas consulted a scrying orb beside the royal seat. "Blaize? What of the fifth and sixth legions?"

General Blaize's voice returned through the magical device, _The streets are clear. But Kael'thas, the scouts keep coming back with reports that the houses are empty too._

Lieutenants Dacian and Falx each checked in next. Both of Blaize's second commanders expressed concern that, though Silvermoon City was peacefully under curfew, it seemed that not one person was around to oppose the returning army, not even the drunks or the vampire-catgirl-whore sorts who seemed to enjoy stalking eternally at all hours in Wayfarer's Rest.

Kael'thas wanted to sit down. Badly. He was so close to having absolutely everything, but something was definitely wrong.

"Kael'thas Olvi'athon Sunstrider, apsha kakkak nam grom'ka!" the shout seemed to come from everywhere at once.

Kael'thas really did sit down now. "No... There is no way... Someone here, translate that!"

Tempestraven tried it, "It's Orcish! Cool, I love green Orcs... Something about 'Your reign of terror is at an... end.' Uh oh."

Daphne the Weaver tapped her healing mace lightly to her chin. "Curiouser and curiouser… Kael'thas, is it entirely possible that the Horde, in support of the Blood Elves, evacuated Silvermoon City on purpose before we all arrived and without Rommath's knowledge—"

"Rommath?!!!"

"Uh… would you believe another round of sleeping pills, my King?"

Lorth'remar standing beside Rommath smacked his forehead. "How did ever you fall for that again?"

A lone, soulful howl silenced any more fearful banter. And then another joined the first. Now, several more. Finally, a pristine, complex note followed by an explosion of Orcish warcries. Threatening grind and slash of metal against stone.

"No fucking way…" Kael'thas sank even lower into the throne, gripped the plush armrests. "The Kor'kron Elite? Really, Thrall? REALLY?!"

Sunthraze whined pathetically. "Anyone here know how to fight a Shaman?"

Pyorin shrugged, "Something about… standing _near_ the totems, and waiting _for_ the Earthsock?"

Toooooo late.

Wolfriders rode down both the East and Western stair cases and into the throne room from its grand entrance. The orcs clad in black and gold armor dismounted immediately and let their wolves run loose. Axes whistled through the air and sunk, sick-sounding, through plate and into surprised Sunfury soldiers. The big, slavering wolves sent even more of them running in a panic. More shouts in Orcish from outside confirmed that Orgrimmar's elite force was already out in the city. How had they ever hidden from the Sunfury?

Kael'thas, still in shock, leaned down and picked up a vial of something that rolled near to his feet. "Invisibility potions… really, Thrall? DAMMIT!" He let loose a round of fireballs all around.

Even with his new stolen powers, however, it was not enough. More and more shaman emerged from within the palace. Some came smashing through the red stained glass windows. How had they crossed the deep moat? Walking on water... Kael'thas found himself fighting out of fear and desperation. Maybe he could simply light the place ablaze, conjure ten phoenixes this time... but then the palace would be lost. His soldiers and friends would be obliterated.

It was clear that the soldiers themselves were just as completely demoralized, having to face an enemy that they did not know anything about, and with so much at stake. They were prepared to enforce Thalassian law, not start a war with the Horde. More harrowing, was that the Warchief Thrall had made his stance immediately clear before the Sunfury Sin'dorei could even gain a foothold at home. Kael'thas had never been welcome, and those disloyal to the King, the anti-monarchists were the ones safe right now, refugees in nearby Undercity, no doubt. The Sunfury had been baited and trapped like wild animals within the treacherous political and magical machinery of their own kingdom. The Orcs were now the masters in what was fast becoming nothing less than a slaughterhouse.

"Blaize!" Kael'thas snatched the scrying orb up with him and ran from the throne room. Three Bloodknights peeled off with him.

_Kael'thas! We're being ambushed. Thrall must have even pulled the elite forces out of Shadowmoon Valley to make this kind of stand against us!_

"Yes, that _is_ entirely possible. As I already told you, I KILLED ILLIDAN!"

_Well, dammit, I believe you now. What are your orders? _The clash of a sword and axe passed across the orb's surface.

"Hold them off." Kael'thas waved his hand when they turned into an open doorway and a white panel closed, cutting off the attack of a screaming, fanged Orc. The magical door sealed Kael'thas and the three Bloodknights into a tiny room. "I am going to activate all the wards. Rise." As he said it, the tiny room jolted upward, with a start, and then it felt like they were moving up. This was a hidden elevator.

Kael'thas peeked over his shoulder to see who he'd been stuck with. "Sunthraze..." a groan, "Tempestraven," double-groan, "... and Mavia? Where's Fennore, how on Azeroth did you two get separated?"

"My life for my coven master."

"Wow, no healers. This is a new low, even for us." Tempest, despite the confined, airless space, commenced to smoking.

"Kael'thas, you gon' die." Sunthaze snickered.

As for the King? Kael'thas wanted, very badly, to turn around and shake them all in that moment. "AAAAAAAAAAAARRRGGGH!"

Finally, the elevator stopped. Kael'thas pushed out first, a screen of cigarette smoke and Tempest came second, and Mavia kicked Sunthraze out, literally and with her hoof, last. "There is no wasting any time! Master wants us to secure the area."

Kael'thas turned disoriented circles, hugging the scrying orb. Blaize's muted voice was conveying how terribly the Sunfury were holding out, down in the streets. "...Do as she tells you."

"I'm not listening to an Illidari Maneater! Especially not when the Demon-lover who really has control of her leash isn't around to--"

Kael'thas threw the scrying orb at Sunthraze's head. "Do it, or I KILL YOU!"

Tempest caught the scrying orb easily and tossed it, behind her back, in return to their leader. "You go East Smartmouth, and I'll go West. Mavia, stick with Kael'thas..."

Then, they separated.

Mavia stalked ahead of Kael'thas, sniffing and holding her whip out, at the ready.

"Blaize? Can you hear me?"

_Just... barely... _Blaize was certainly fighting on all sides, by now.

"I am going to ignite both the ancient and restored wards in Quel'thalas. Every single one."

_But you'll kill us all!_

"Just the weaker of us, who haven't been taking care of their magical addictions over the years. Everyone else, the people who listened to me, will survive the surge. But, the point of course, is to eradicate the Orcs."

_Reconsider it. Too many good men will be sacrificed, and we'll be left with no protection whatsoever along our borders. Or even from the Amani Trolls within our lands. We would lose the entire country!_

Mavia had stopped walking, and Kael'thas bumped into her. "Master, you smell like Illidan."

"...So? Why is it so hard to believe that I killed Illidan Stormrage, with my own bare hands?! Blaize, do as I say. Tell your men to brace themselves."

"Master... you also sound like Illidan. And you are beginning to look like Illidan."

Kael'thas just barely glanced at himself in the scrying orb. Green runes peeked above the high red collar of his robe. Even more of his hair gone black. Fangs.

"Never mind that. The room we want should be on the right."

Mavia lowered her voice. "Even if you did enslave him, before the end... it should not affect you like this. I have served him long enough to know better."

"We haven't time for this. I will handle it later."

"The power and curse of Gul'dan. It has passed to you." Mavia's eyes flashed red. She raised her whip at Kael'thas, he cursed at her, stagged backward. Directly into a wall of warm plate.

Earthshock. It took Kael'thas a while to realize that is what burned Mavia's limbs and sent her crashing through a window at the end of the red gilded marble hallway. The concussive force of it exploded the scrying orb in his hands, cut Kael'thas' fingers, left him staggering around seeing only green for too long. Then he was grabbed by the arm--the hands were so large and strong Kael'thas feared it was Illidan coming at him at first. Ragged guilt caused him to yell, and lash out. Try to find the Mageblade again...

"Thrall!"

The Farseer and Warchief, the undisputed leader and savior of the Horde races, pushed Kael'thas aside and smashed the glass runestone in the center of that coveted room. The door of the tower room slammed closed, Kael'thas couldn't get it to unseal. He turned back around. Thrall dragged his war-mace a few paces. Studded gold at the edges scratched the pristine white floors and created sparks. They were in the palace's highest tower. No windows in the room, but they both sensed how powerful and important this place was. Kael'thas mourned the glittering destroyed pieces of the glass runestone, which had controlled all the other runestones in his kingdom.

Thrall had a look in his clear blue eyes--the eyes of a Frostwolf--that convinced the Blood Elf that this Farseer knew magic more intimately than anyone born addicted to it. This shaman did not own the elements. He sympathized with them, he loved them like brothers and sisters. And he was pained to see such magic abused. Kael'thas had not just crossed a line with Thrall's friends today, by commiting crimes in Netherstorm and daring to come back. He had insulted Thrall's own family. That was how he regarded both the natural world, and the Horde.

"Your people. They never were your people, Kael'thas. The Blood Elves are free. They want to be ruled justly, and are willing to do it themselves if necessary. I came and I asked them that, and when Rommath fell alseep after the meeting, I made arrangements for them all to leave. Not one person is left in this city who is susceptible to your lies and magic. Shaman line your streets as far as the eye can see. Now, would you like to tell me how you ran off to Outland to save my country, cure my addiction, and how, now, I owe my soul to you? Would you like to lie to me about the babe who isn't mine, make me feel guilty about the body I sacrificed, for your sake--"

"Are you preaching to me about Saturna?"

Thrall smiled. "I see. So, she _is_ alive. I am a Farseer, yes, but I could have only ever sensed it. No, Kael'thas, I am telling you about your own fears. All of your secrets, all of your pain and guilt, it is wafting right off of you. And here you are, changing into the very Demon you thought you'd conquered, before my very eyes."

Kael'thas fought to stifle his thoughts. "I am not afraid of you, Thrall. In fact, I am more powerful than you. Than anyone else could have ever dreamed."

"Because you killed Illidan Stormrage? Do you think the Sha'tar simply had not got around to it yet? I told them to wait."

"Why?"

"I wanted to wait because Tyrande was also waiting. Somehow, that woman had convinced all of the Alliance to lobby A'dal, and tell him to stay his justice. At first," Thrall hefted his mace up onto his shoulder, with two hands. "I thought she might be pregnant, with Illidan's son."

"Well, you were way off."

"Yes I was. But I showed her mercy, anyway, for what I did not yet know. That's the kind of guy I just happen to be."

"Lucky me."

"It gets better." Thrall frowned, and his bottom fangs really leant something to that mean look. "I wanted A'dal to target Tempest Keep instead, do something advantageous while we gathered what information we could about the Fel Orcs and Illdan's destiny in Shadowmoon Valley. But I never brought it up. Because Jaina Proudmoore--"

"Oh, come on! She dumped me ages ago."

"She is a sweet and loving woman, that you clearly missed out on. Jaina felt that you weren't acting normally. She believed that, free of Illidan's influence, you would not behave the way that you did, torturing innocents, lying to people... So, I waited for her too. I waited for both women to make up their minds, while my people's homeland wasted away. All... because... of you. Because, somewhere along the way, these two amazing women and my own shamanistic senses convinced me that there was still good in you, Kael'thas Sunstrider."

Kael'thas inched up along the wall, trying to stand. Thrall grunted, and he sank back down again.

"And then, two weeks ago, I hear that you have plans to seize the city from your own people so that you can have a new evil lair, outside of Netherstorm. You don't come offering peace or asking for forgiveness either, and there were still a great deal many people holding out hope for that, after you buried the White Blade on Sunstrider Isle three years ago. No, you ordered Rommath to tell the people that they would have no choice; they were either patriots and loyal to you, or they were treacherous swine who deserved to die. That is not how we do things in the Horde."

"You were willing to let me come back? Well, some things... considered."

"I took care of the other two Bloodknights in this tower, and there will be no exterminating the Orcs or the weak Blood Elves on the streets of your own city, Kael'thas. I've had another vision of you."

"...You have?" Then, Kael'thas corrected his voice, so that it didn't sound so startled.

"Well, I'm looking at you right now. You look bad, Blood Elf Prince. And, you stink."

"How classy of you. Thank you, Thrall."

Thrall spat into both hands, and rubbed them together. Kael'thas tried not to be impressed that the big war mace balanced easily between just one muscular shoulder and the Orc's thick neck.

"How is, Jaina doing, anyways? Before you pummel me." Kael'thas said, as Thrall closed in. Kael'thas played with something behind his back.

"She's cute." Thrall smiled. "By the way, you're still an idiot."

"Excuse me? Have you seen Saturna Whiteblade?"

"Ah, so you actually convinced her to marry you. I had my doubts about that too. It must be why you first came to Quel'Danas, before attacking Silvermoon."

_Damn, he's good!_

"One last little observation, before we get started."

"That's an honorable final request; I don't mind at all."

"I do, actually, regret that I enslaved and then killed Illidan Stormrage--oops, you didn't know that, did you? That I have the power of Gul'dan within me, and I also have thousands of years', practically the lifetime of Azeroth's worth, of primal magic running through my veins at the moment. Well, whether you knew that already with your super secret special shaman powers, matters little. What I want to say is, I am a little regretful right now, that that is the sort of ass-whooping you're about to get. Really, if I had known you craved a final showdown, I would have let the bastard live, gone directly to Kil'jaeden first, and then returned to Azeroth to finish the job he started with your people!"

Thrall charged at Kael'thas, "Spawn of Evil! Why did I ever show compassion for the likes of you?"

Kael'thas blinked and reappeared across the room. "First, I would have used Legion magic to corrupt your women, make them even more grotesque than they are right now--"

Thrall smashed a gash in the white wall. He heaved up the mace again, and turned to the far side of the room. "Don't test my patience, MY patience of all the wise and just leaders in this world--"

"I'd set up something like a Sunwell, but brimming with Demon blood. A little sweet-spice to get people excited about it... no, what is it that you Orcs like to eat all the time? Disgusting, filthy swine? Well, I guess I'd make my Bloodwell ham-flavored."

Another angry smash. Kael'thas disappeared in a column of flame. Thrall swore and shuffled comically through it.

"And then everyone could have a drink and give up their souls again, re-ignite their fel-magic addictions, the Bloodlust, and BOW BEFORE ME! In fact, I like that idea. When you are dead, it won't be so hard to manage. I can have my revenge, my half of the planet with the help of loyal Sylvanas, and the Legion can take the other half. The Horde half!"

A white-hot phoenix rose up in the center of the room, spread its wings and cornered Thrall. The flaming mouth opened wide, conjuring some dark spell. It looked like so many mouths howling in torment, souls writhing and begging to die, or else, take someone else with them. Fell someone powerful, someone that would please their master, bolster him up...

Thrall wiped sweat from his brow and cast a single totem.

Kael'thas reappeared, cackling. "That curse I just placed upon you is one of my greastest yet! A foul Bloodmage conjuring that only the power of Gul'dan could make so perfectly vile. You'll never again see the light of precious day, you... where'd it go?"

Thrall nodded and tapped the totem at his feet with a finger. "Grounding totem."

"...Huh?!"

"It eats spells."

"But I... I could only imagine a spell like that, for years! I only just now had the power, Illidan's power, to bring it into existence. You can't just 'eat it' with a friggin totem?!"

Thrall just shrugged and the used wooden totem wiggled its way into the ground in a gust of gray ash.

"Well eat this!" Kael'thas cast a fireball directly into Thrall's face. Thrall hadn't enough time to react, he blinked afterward and wiped fingers across his eyes, to clear the soot.

"That all you got?"

"What the fel?! Do you know how hot that was? I never made one that hot before..."

Now Thrall tapped another totem on the floor. This one was ice blue. "Fire-resist."

Kael'thas tried an ice spell.

"Nope, try again, Poindexter. Frost-resist totem. What part of 'master of the elements' don't you understand?"

"Shadowbolt!"

"Oooh good one... Earthshooooock!"

"Gaah!"

Kael'thas cast one spell, and then another and another.

"Earthshock, earthshock, earthshock!"

"I'm getting out of range of these stupid little toys..."

"FROST SHOCK! Ha, that's my favorite one, Kael'thas."

"I swear to the Sun, if you don't pick up your mace and fight me like a man--"

"Ho! Haha... I just got this mental image of you squaring off with Illidan Stormrage, calling out these lame Nerdboy rules about who gets to use magic or why, or do what when? What do you think this all is, some old-fashioned game between dungeons and dragons? You're such a loser, Kael'thas."

"What did you just call me?! Korgammon! Take care of him."

"Oh, what a cute little fel-puppy. And freshly resurrected too, I see. Aww, poor thing, are you scared? I bet you are, 'cause the last time Daddy let you out, a mean old Demon lord went and killed you, didn't he?"

"Stop using your Farseeing... thing. This isn't fair."

"Here, you can play with one of my dogs." But Thrall conjured two ghost wolves and one of them went directly for Kael'thas.

"Gaah! Get this thing off of me. Korgy! Obey me!"

But Korgy was busy being licked to death by a happy ghostwolf.

"What the fel kind of name is Korgy? That one's Bone-eater and the other one is Marrow-basher. Nerdboy, can't you even resist naming your pets in such a lame fashion?"

Kael'thas hopped around the room trying to get away from Thrall's ghost-dog. "Suddenly, I think I see why Jaina likes you so much. You bully-jerk! Stop calling me names."

"Make me."

A giant blue voidwalker was summoned next. It had to brace the ceiling with its manacled, smoky arms, to keep from tearing it off with the momentum of its--

"Oh, come on!"

"Earth Elemental Totem. Sorry Kael'thas. You're going to have to try again."

Both men paused, watching the two conjured monsters duke it out. Thrall's finally raised two rocky fists together overhead and smashed Kael'thas' voidwalker into nothing but a cobalt stain on the floor.

"This is ridiculous, I ENSLAVED Illidan Stormrage, for gods' sake! I am stronger than you!"

"Oh, but you just got these brand new amazing abilities, and you have no idea how to use them. These are all some of your old Bloodamge tricks. You came to take Silvermoon half-cocked, without testing your powers first. But, hey, I'm not gonna judge you. Maybe it was too hard to keep so very many lies juggled up in the air. Perhaps stealing back the throne, really, really fast before too many people found out you didn't deserve it, that you lied and manipulated your way to get this far, was really the best course of action."

"But I didn't expect you to have stupid totems for like... everything!"

"You know what, I think I'll take your advice and use my mace after all." Devlish snarl. "...And now I kill you."

Kael'thas fell to his knees. "This is so stupid! I can't believe I'm about to do this... Wait!"

Thrall waited. There were puppies playing in the background, which sort of ruined the fateful moment, but Thrall didn't seem to mind much.

"You could have killed me when I first came in here, but you didn't. You still want something from me."

"Do I? I don't think so. Maybe I just like playing with you."

"This is almost an exact copy of the strategy I used against Illidan." Kael'thas thought quickly. "You used your stupid fore...sightful shaman powers to out-strategize me."

"Stupid what?"

"Aah, don't frost shock me again! That was painful and embarassing... Look, whatever you want, Thrall you can have it, just don't torture me like this. I've learned my lesson, already."

"Which is?"

"I..." Kael'thas curled a lip, annoyed. "You're my Warchief."

"Wrong answer!" Thrall raised his mace again, smashed with wind whipping around him, and Kael'thas raced to get away in time.

"I... then what do you want from me?!"

"Figure it out, or die from excessive and liberal use of frostshock."

Kael'thas staggered around the room, was forced to his feet again and again, as he tried, went red-faced and truly struggled, to figure out what Thrall wanted from him.

"Oh, don't cry Nerdboy... I bet you haven't done that since the last time Arthas stuffed you in a Dalaran Academy locker. Jaina and I thought you came such a long way, too."

"I'll help you kill Arthas!"

"Me? Just me?"

"You, Jaina, Sylvanas, Bone-eater, whomever, I don't care, just stop freezing me like this!"

"When?"

"Right now!"

"Wrong answer!" Thrall got in Kael'thas face.

"When you say so! Sir."

"Good, now stop your crying. And get up." Thrall waited until Kael'thas, and he was so angry to have to do it, wiped his eyes with his long red sleeves and pulled himself together.

"If you want to live in this Horde, then you are going to play by my rules, got it? There will NEVER be a day, when you've tested your powers enough, or told enough lies, controlled enough people, to ever displace me. The people of the Horde follow me for a reason that you are about to learn, even if it takes the rest of your life, you Peon! Out of respect. Out of honor. Because of a Blood-Oath. Do you hear me, Peon?"

"Yes, Sir. And I don't know how you're doing this to me..."

"Because your daddy took you to see me battle, about a lifetime ago, back when I was just a Gladiator forced to earn my right to live every single day in Hillsbrad. I remember you from way back then. You were a scrawny little thing without any hope, and you're still the same way now. I have your woman, and I have your kingdom, and I hold your future in the palm of this fist."

"Um... I'll go along with the 'I'm going to help you with your Daddy issues' speech, but let's set the record straight on one thing. My wife, Saturna Whiteblade, I really do love her. I am not interested in Jaina. We just have... memories."

"I'll believe it when I Saturna here, settled, and with that son of yours. But you haven't earned that right yet. Kael'thas, the cold hard truth is, you respect me. I inspired you. And if you doubt that, I demand that you account, right now, for why you did not get upset and take this sort of action against the Horde when you first heard the Blood Elves had allied with me?"

Kael'thas had nothing to say to that.

"I began earning your respect so many years ago, when you and your father saw me struggle against those Human fighters and win. And when news got out that I escaped... I hear that there were a few Humans and Elves who cheered across the country side. They had seen the fire in my eyes, they knew that I deserved better. Respect."

"Either treating people fairly really does earn you loyalty, or you used magic back then to divine that we'd need to be allies now, against Arthas."

"Both. Trust me when I say, once again, that I've seen it."

"Fine then, we're allies. Now will you kindly call off the Kor'kron Elite--I still cannot believe you went that far--so that my better soldiers don't die in the streets of my city?"

"Not yet. I may have forseen, all that long ago, that I would need someone like you by my side, that you were capable of great evil, but also great good, if given the chance... but there are no guarantees in this life. If I was a prophet, if I worked in absolutes, then I would not have needed to evacuate your city, or work up a sweat teaching you a lesson. I want proof that I can trust you."

"But you just said..."

"You're a backstabbing, arrogant, selfish prick. That hasn't changed. I know that you're worth it, but I won't call off this war against the Sunfury until I'm absolutely assured that I can trust you."

"You can have access to all the land I've claimed in Outland."

"And further polarize the conflict with the Shatar? You forget what side of the war you're on. The Horde is about fighting side by side allies, and with honor, not stabbing them in the back when it suits us."

Kael'thas paced, and Thrall held out his mace, to measure that distance. "You're staying right here."

"The Sunwell... I'll share its energies with the entire Horde."

"That's very generous. But also very addicting."

"Really... heh, that Bloodwell comment earlier was just a joke."

"I need a better offer."

"Don't you already know what I am going to offer you?"

"People are dying, Kael'thas. Your General, especially, the one you pegged to be your scapegoat is really in a bad way. And I sense that you can't afford to lose him at all."

"You can have Outland! No... I mean... Nagrand. Isn't that what you want?"

"Everything except for the Legion camps, yes. Well done. You sure you're not a Farseer?"

"I assure you, Sir, that I am not. Or else I would have never let myself be embarassed like this. Ugh, I don't think I can feel my ass anymore, it's numb!"

"You can keep Netherstorm, I have no clue what use Tempest Keep is, and you worked hard for it anyways."

"Not a fan of Dranei either?"

"Heck no. But Kael'thas, you've forgotten something. How, exactly, will I deliver the ancestral lands back to my people? You don't personally own so much of Nagrand, Zangarmarsh, and so forth. They don't belong to you."

Kael'thas made fists. "Don't. You have no idea what's at stake for me, if you force me to--"

"I don't care about the complications it creates in your love life. I don't even care about the complications it makes in your mind. Those lands belong to Illidan Stormrage, the Master of Outland, the Lord of the Black Temple. The Shatar won't finish their expensive conflict in Outland until it's clear what can be done in Shadowmoon Valley. Tyrande will not allow her allies to comply until she is happy. Illidan is the lynchpin. But more importantly, Malfurion, Tyrande, all of Darnassus--"

"You care about those freaks?"

"You tried to save Tyrande from Illidan, in the end. I can see that now, too. This is about a man facing a just trial at last, and paying for his crimes before the people he wronged. Illidan always was an outlaw on the run."

"Don't talk to me about fair!" Kael'thas pushed the heavy weight of Thrall's mace away, "Illidan murdered my Saturna... he raped, her Thrall. I can't let him live."

"I am a man too. I know the pain of not being able to have the one you love, because she is still torn about the past. It's horrible." Thrall paused, and closed his eyes for a moment. "But, regardless of whether or not you agree, I have found in my many trials as a man, as a shaman and Farseer, and as a Warchief, that the answer, the best answer is always to fix the future. And, if at all possible... to forgive."

"I could never forgive Illidan Stormrage! And that is my choice. You will not instruct me in the matters of my own soul, Shaman!"

"Nor do I intend to. I want what's mine, what I would have had if you hadn't decided to take a joy ride all around Outland these last three years. You've made things very difficult for the Shatar, and more painful for the Horde than they've needed to be. Do you know that you essentially divided your people into three factions that are still fighting against one another? The High Elves headed by Vereesa's Silver Covenant in Dalaran, the Blood Elves loyal to me here on Azeroth, and then your Sunfury, they're all killing each other because a few years ago, you didn't want to sit on that throne and do the right thing!"

"Well, if you want some kind of apology--"

"SHUT UP! Be a man, grow a pair, and fix it!"

Kael'thas looked Thrall in the eye. Then, he walked to the center of the room. He gazed at the ceiling for a long time. Praying, meditating, giving up... it wasn't clear what. And then, Kael'thas shut his eyes. He opened his palms and reached out, drawing the violet magic to himself. The burden was great. Pulling that hard on the dead link was an amazing strain. It stole the flush from his face, made his hair go black, grew talons at his fingertips. And then the powerful wind blew his robes against his lean form. Thrall wrapped strong arms around his mace, bracing himself. At last, the shade of the creature appeared, his heavy, graceful horns, the burnt wings, the hooves. Bowed head drifted up and suddenly awake. Then, the dark magic faded, and Illidan Stormrage looked down at himself, felt his restored body.

"...Thrall?" Illidan looked to Kael'thas and then all around the room, trying to understand. "Master Warchief." he knelt.

Thrall stood near Illidan. "There is going to be justice for Tyrande as well. I know what happened with you and your brother."

Kael'thas raged, "What the--"

"Be quiet, Kael'thas. But there is something else going on here... I couldn't believe it when I first sensed it, that Kael'thas would do something so stupid. You are the only one who can keep him in check."

"I'd kill him again first--"

"If there is no Illidan, then there is no deal!" Thrall asserted. Kael'thas snapped his mouth shut.

"Illidan, this one's bitten off more than he can chew. You need to keep an eye on him."

"Yes, Warchief."

"I did have a plan, Thrall. It's not as if I went into this wrecklessly. I needed Illidan's power to make everything. I needed to live forever for Saturna. But I couldn't survive suchc a long life if I was constantly being tempted by Illidan. If he is alive then he will make me want more and more of his power. He's manipulated me and used me already, for years. Did it never occur to you that Tyrande might be biased? And when in the world did you get to have a private shaman session alone with her?"

"If you know your history, Kael'thas, Tyrande's and Malfurion's secret isn't really that hard to figure out, not just for a Farseer like me. But from a more political standpoint... the Alliance just lost the power of Illidan Stormrage. They compoletely mishandled the situation, in my opinion. Illidan, in my eyes, you are a hero who saved the world from the Legion. What you did before and after that... Darnassus should try you for. When we are ready to do that." Thrall offered his hand, and Illidan shook it.

"It's also more than convenient, isn't it, when the green Orcs have suffered in Outland too?" Illidan worried.

"I don't think it's feasible for you to stand trial in both cities though that would be nice, but believe me, you are going to work it off, Illidan. And then some."

Thrall focused back on Kael'thas. "Kael'thas, in his greed, somehow managed to save you from eternal madness. And now, I am going to save you, Illidan, from Kael'thas' passion and foolishness. Will you agree help us to end the threat in Northrend?"

"When?"

Thrall laughed heartily. "You see, Kael'thas? That is the way a grown man answers a question, when there is work to be done, lives to save."

Thrall conjured blue magic and became as clear and ethereal as Saturna was. Then, he morphed into a wolf. This wolf threw his lupine head back and let forth a singular howl. This was joined by other howls across the kingdom. They could hear it through the walls, even up in the the tower-room. Kael'thas marvelled at what he heard and sensed, that fighting, everywhere in the city, had stopped.

"Welcome to the Horde, boys." Thrall wagged his tail once, and sharp, then had a seat in front of them. He spoke with a clever snarl and show of razor-teeth. "Arthas is very powerful. He has... spies among even our ranks. I won't reveal who I think they are, but for now, you two are men that I can trust, absolutely. You two could never stomach helping Arthas, and being Soul Linked, master to slave, you won't betray one another."

Kael'thas crossed his arms.

"Your partnership is more important than even this cause. Life itself in Azeroth depends on you two, working together. I have forseen it. And certainly, the Horde needs you too."

"It's safest if I... put Illidan back at the Black Temple and transition power over to you gradually. Or else, it'd be impossible to keep the Alliance off my back here in the Eastern Kingdoms. And... there are some of my people who would be outraged to know that they were still working with Illidan."

Illidan was quiet, focused.

"That makes sense. Let your alliance be a secret. Even to other leaders of the Horde. They wouldn't be to pleased with me if they knew I recruited you two... mostly as spies. But in time, you'll fully gain their trust. And mine as well."

Illidan said, "I am a part of something meaningful again. Thank you, Thrall."

"...and let him see Tyrande, Kael'thas."

Illidan cocked his head to the side and blinked his burnt out eye sockets in what, we can only hope, was meant to look like some kind of sad puppy-dog look.

Kael'thas harrumphed, and after desummoning Illidan, the Orc and Blood Elf went down into the throne room, to share the news. It turned out that Mavia had flown to safety but been caught up in pitch battles on the street. And Thrall hadn't actually 'taken care of' Sunthraze and Tempest. They'd found a spare room upstairs, and Liadrin was red enough in the face now to suggest what the two of them had got up to, even with a war going on.

Sorn was there beside the throne when, at last, Kael'thas took his proper seat. "My King, I really can't wait until we replace them all... those two especially."

Kael'thas smiled innocently at Thrall, and shushed his advisor. Thrall wisely ignored them anyway. "People of Silvermoon... today is a grand day for the Blood Elves. King Kael'thas Sunstrider has agreed to return, peacefully to his city, as is his birthright. It will be an uneasy truce, but, with time, and under Horde martial law..."

"Martial Law?! You never said--"

Sorn quieted Kael'thas. "We're lucky to get off with that."

"Silvermoon City will once again be restored to its ancient glory. Three cheers for the noble and gracious King!"

The Orcs cheered at the noble blood sacrifice that had been shed. They shouted for thunder of success. The Blood Elves sang praises to the Sun.

And in Shadowmoon Valley...

Illidan re-appeared on the dark mountain top. He helped Tyrande to her feet and kissed her hands. "Your prayers have been answered. Today, Love has won."

Tyrande cried with joy and hugged Illidan tight. He rocked with her in that desolate wind, until she stopped trembling. Then, when they were ready, he took her in his arms and flew with Tyrande from the mountain and back to the Black Temple.

Azeroth and Outland were amazed at the miraculous return of the Demon Lord, and Tyrande's sudden loyalty to him. And, that Thrall never saw fit to return the Kor'kron Elite to their outpost in Shadowmoon Valley, the odd retreat of the Fel Orcs to their strongholds, and the peaceful opening of the storm-gates to Coilfang Reservoir... these were all greater mysteries that the Shatar could not explain. Peace, suddenly?

There was another rumor that Prince Arthas was shocked and desperately angry to have it all happen. In turn, Thrall joked that poor Prince Arthas' temper-tantrum was so hot, it was finally causing Icecrown to melt, just a little.


	4. Is she more than meets the eye?

**Revenge of Kael'thas**

**Chapter Three: Is she more than meets the eye?**

_JAINA PROUDMORE, I COMMAND YOU TO PUT AN END TO THIS AFFRONT!_

Jaina rushed into Thrall's chamber, screaming. A whirlwind came with her. The cold blizzard frosted Thrall's elite guards, their feet stuck in place. Vol'jin, leader of the Darkspear Trolls, froze solid in the middle of a spear-throw.

"I should slap your face, Thrall. This is NOT what we agreed to. Do you know how much I've risked on us and on this justice?!"

Thrall took a deep breath. "You know as well as I do that Kael'thas cannot stand trial in both Orgrimmar and Stormwind. Though I wish it were possible for the world to be united on such things--"

"Tyrande herself admitted that she no longer trusts me, nor will anyone else in the Alliance to take me seriously after word gets around. I was already drowning politically, because I opened my heart to you. And now you betray me?!"

"This is simple. Kael'thas Sunstrider is more valuable to me as an ally. I have not betrayed you--"

"I swear to the gods and all the vivid schools of magic that if you tell me you're just 'borrowing him...'"

Thrall shrugged, "Well, in essence... Illidan is going to Darnassus for trial afterwards, and as part of the exchange, I guaranteed Kael'thas--and his family--a safe home."

"You cannot enact refugee status under article twenty-three in our Theramore Treaty--"

"Actually, if you consider ammendment fifty-five, article two..."

_END HIM. END HIM NOW, UNRAVEL IT ALL!_

Jaina came to a stop before Thrall and his throne. Her terrified look flashed to anger. It was the sort of spiteful glare only a girlfriend could manage, and it caused Thrall to close his mouth and give up.

Jaina slapped him anyway. "You're right Thrall, this _is_ very simple. When you tried to apprehend him, Kael'thas promised you Outland, I know it, I can just smell it all over you. And in that moment, you decided your ancestors are more important than mine. But what about my justice, what about my father?! Thrall, I lost him because of you in the battle for Kalimdor, I don't care if he was a criminal... I sacrificed my father for peace, but at the end of the day, that doesn't matter, does it? Nor does it make any difference to you that Kael'thas turned against the Alliance, and went off to Outland and caused all kinds of havoc as a result. We Humans were suffering and Kael'thas turned his back on us. Later, he tortures the Draenei and evicts them from their home in Tempest Keep. Oh, but to you, Orcs are more important than the Alliance. Orcs are more important than Humans, plain and simple."

Thrall cracked his neck while red flush in his bruised cheek faded. "...Or, you could have asked how it is that Illidan Stormrage is still alive, when your spies surely know as well as mine do, that Kael'thas killed him mere days ago. But yet, you insist on starting a fight with me. This is an argument I thought we'd settled a long time ago, Jaina." Thrall cast a Healing Stream totem. Cool water bubbled up from the carved wooden idol. Soldiers melting free or stalking up behind Jaina Proudmore in the room instantly relaxed.

"All of you, leave us. And Vol'jin?"

"Ya, Warchief mon?"

"If you ever aim a spear at my girlfriend's head again, you will become a fast victim of the nastiest frost shock I can manage."

Vol'jin was the last of the people to saunter, kicked-looking, out of Grommash Hold.

"Jaina, please, have a seat." Thrall offered his very throne.

Jaina was flustered, she grabbed the armrests and leaned forward, breathing hard. Thrall lifted her chin, and rubbed her cheek with his palm in soothing circles. "You know that I care for you..."

"I know that you care for me..."

"I would never do anything truly against you..."

"You would never do anything truly against me. I know that."

While she meditated, Thrall leaned in and kissed her. Jaina closed her eyes and enjoyed it. "Thank you. These last few days, Thrall, I've just been so upset."

"I know. It's because you feel guilty. But there's only one thing I can't see, because my own heart gets in the way."

"What is it, Thrall-shock?" a sweet smile.

Thrall laughed, charmed, but then made himself serious again. "...Exactly how long have you been cheating on me?"

Jaina slapped him again. Thrall jolted the fur and bone seat back down onto the stone floor when Jaina attempted to get up and blink away. "I don't know what you're talking about! I wouldn't sleep with Kael'thas, that's absurd."

Thrall gave her a bewildered look that clarified it was definitely not Kael'thas he had been considering. He wrankled his brow in disgust once the shock faded. "Well now, that's another surprising worry. But Jaina, that is not who I am talking about."

_OH BABY. PLEASE GO THERE, I WANT TO SEE HIS FACE... _the rest of the Lich King's voice faded in Jaina's mind when Thrall refreshed his Healing Stream totem.

"I'm not sleeping with Arthas."

"Yes you are."

"Oh my gods, I told you already that I'm NOT!"

"Then why does he have this puppet-master control over you? You're whole, I can sense that; you haven't been enslaved through Undeath or some other necromantic means. Has he threatened you somehow, or anyone in your family? Has Arthas spoken to you at all?"

"How would he even do that, from far away in Icecrown? Maybe... maybe from time to time, I send letters out of habit, but it's not like I have his actual address in Icecrown, and he never answers them or actually reads them."

"Why do you feel like you have to write to him? You shouldn't be doing that, Jaina. Now, who is the one most betrayed?"

Thrall swallowed. Jaina was uncomfortable. He looked at her as if it was the last time he was ever going to see her again, and with Thrall, those sorts of looks always hit home. Like back when they first met, and Jaina knew from his smile, that they were going to fall for one another, and fast.

"They are harmless letter sent out into the blind darkness; they're practically diary entries sealed up in a postbox someplace in Dalaran for all we know. Lots of people are probably sending Arthas hate-mail these days, in fact, why aren't you making protest? Thrall, your accusations are completely unfair, and I have been so deeply offended this morning. Now, you had better move before I blast a fireball through your middle so that I can get out of this damned chair!"

Thrall stepped aside. "You may not know it, but Arthas is still in your heart somehow. He is in your blood, as the Orcs say. You lust after him, after all these years."

"Don't you think _I_ would know whether or not I've had sex these last few weeks? Shouldn't you?!"

Thrall was completely caught off guard by that statment and he glared at her. "It might not be sexual, it could also be residual anger, a blood-lust. You should try to forgive him, Jaina. It's hard, I know. Kael'thas was angered when I told him the same thing about Illidan, but this is the way of life. You can either dominate the anger, or you can struggle beneath it."

"HA! I hope that bastard Arthas burns and dies..."

"I wish I could believe your sentiment. Goodbye, Lady Jaina Proudmore."

Jaina stood beneath the grand archway of Grommash Hold. A hall lit by loud, crackling tribal fires was beyond. Bones informed the architecture, tanned kodo hides lined the walls. This was the heart of Thrall's vision, a great and proud beast that rested at the heart of his country, and dreamed. Like the white Echeyake resting in the Barrens savannah. The legendary lion was rare and beautiful. His nobility and strength widely known. Adventurers sought him out because he was good, not to terrorize or hunt the beast. And so, Echeyake, the great white mist, the great hunter lived on. Jewel of nature, he had inspired mortals and so preserved himself through great spiritual power.

Ogrimmar was the same. A sacred place that all in the Horde were drawn to, a beacon of hope. Many people in the Alliance had heard stories of Grommash Hold and thought it was an evil place, and that when Orcs spoke of blood within, that they wanted to start wars. But Thrall had warned her about her anger. He had asked her for peace. And didn't Stormwind also honor lions?

All the world was tangled, wayward grass, but Thrall was its watchful lion. Few people, Orc or Human, realized the Warchief had such a far-reaching perspective. His was a rare mind and heart, and it was painful to walk away from such fierce, unwavering love. Even now, Jaina wanted run into his arms, have the courage to trust him again.

"Jaina, I promised myself that I would never tell you this, but... the fates showed me that we would not stay together, because we were too different. This is terrible, I never wanted to lose you in such a way," his voice broke, but then Thrall steeled himself. "...I hope you can forgive me for trying."

_WOW, WHAT A LINE. _

"Sure Thrall, I give you permission to blame your failure as a man on destiny if that makes you feel any better. It's definitely what I'd do too, if I just realized that, through being a selfish jerk, I handed the love of my life back over to her ex boyfriend."

_REALLY? YOU'RE COMING TO ME NEXT, LIKE FOR REAL? MAN, THAT WOULD BE... OH GOSH, THAT WOULD BE SO ELITE, JAINA!_

Jaina blinked as if she hadn't heard something right, but then swore and, with a flick of her wrists and several points of violet arcane magic, made herself disappear.

Vol'jin was the first to return, his expression grim. "Mebbe I woulda' died from frost shock. But den, mebbe you wouldn't look like a big zhevra's ass right now. Sweetiepie Mista Thrall-shock, mon, I tol' you from the start dat snooty girl be out of your league. Guess we gonna' go get drunk wit' Cairne now, and I gotta make a new batch of Kungaloosh. Lady Sylvanas could bring... Eh, dun' want to invite her dis time. She always too much of a downer. We men dun' want to get dat low."

Thrall sat down and pounded a fist into his open palm. All he could think through the fear, the sorrow, the rage... was that Kael'thas and Illidan better damned well have been worth this sacrifice.

_In Silvermoon..._

Kael'thas swore profusely every time Advisor Sorn handed him another document to sign. The Kor'kron Elite standing at four corners of the red royal desk really rent right through his nerves.

"... Sorn, I am not signing a document that is going to allow Orgrimmar to send someone to oversee a care-taker government in my own city!"

A female Orc shaman pounded her fist directly below the dotted line. Vials of his father's ink, feathered pens, precious gold magical objects, a blue scrying orb and other of Anasterian's trinkets clattered all at once, and then thumped back into place. Kael'thas signed and grumbled.

"Thrall promised that the Caretaker would be one of the more forgiving races of the Horde, since he'd have to live in the palace with your fragile ghost Queen and Belorim, especially. Wasn't it nice of the Warchief to consider your family? But even more amazing, there will be manipulation of circumstances for you this time, my King. Thrall has managed to thwart the one thing that none of your enemies thus far has ever been able escape. Collar or no, armies or no, technology, political power, magical acumen... Thrall guessed your one most secret weapon against those hoping to control you, and he has truly set you up to fail this time if he picks a Caretaker from the Horde race I'm thinking of."

"It'll be Undead. His goal is to freak me the fel out, still. Do you know my ass is still numb on the left side?" leaned up out of the chair to show the guards. The Orc woman averted her eyes.

"That's just it, your Majesty. This secret weapon is so natural to a Sunstrider, it even happens when you're trying to be crude. You have sex appeal."

"Oh gods, Sorn no... And now the Orcs are laughing at me."

"Yes, but she could have been slamming your skull into the wall, when you were clearly flirting in hopes that she might be distracted and go easier on you."

Orcish grunt, and another stack of agreements shoved into Kael'thas' face. And there was a stern reminder to read through this next contract too. "Trust me, madam, I didn't flirt with an Orc woman on purpose. As the old man said, it's all accidental, biological... alright, and so when I notice it happening, I exploit it. But in the same way I'd exploit any other weakness in an enemy."

"The Caretaker is going to be a Tauren, Kael'thas, I just know it."

"Ugh, oh by the Light and every other vivid school of magic... Thrall wouldn't be that cruel, to send a grass-eating, dung-flinging, and shod--"

"My wife is Tauren."

Kael'thas flinched and looked up at an especially toothy male guard at the northwest corner of his desk. Sorn stood directly across from Kael'thas, next to the outspoken Orc. Sorn adjusted his monocle and chuckled.

"And I'm... sure she's a pretty... grass-eating, dung-flinging thing too. My, what fine sharp teeth you have. I bet that you, sir, work out... gnawing on things. Next treaty, please."

Growls all around.

"And there it goes again. The gender doesn't even matter. Kael'thas, Lady Vashj failed to destroy you because she wanted you, The Legion--an entire group of villians--avoided recruiting you, I heard from Liadrin, because one of their own..." a snicker, "had a very bad infatuation with you--"

"You were with the Legion, Blood Elf King?"

Kael'thas shushed Sorn, and smiled at the third Orc guard. "What my not-dead-yet Advisor is referring to is a small incident with a certain fanboy Legion Ranger they sent after me, who just wouldn't... die. And Sorn was supposed to see to him being executed anyway, so it was his fault."

"It certainly was not, no one told you to borrow Illidan's Fel Orcs and send them after Faltheriel. And also, while I'm speaking of Illidan, he never took full revenge on you either because he wanted your power so badly. Then of course, is my most pristine example. At one time, even Saturna Whiteblade was your enemy."

"Oh, she was a fun one to seduce, though."

The Orcs looked disturbed, but really, as long as Kael'thas signed Thrall's treaties, they were relieved not to grapple with any more of his strange personal life, or personality.

"Yes..." Sorn reminisced. "Saturna Whiteblade was once our greatest enemy, back before we realized what cruelty Illidan and Vashj were truly capable of. But then, she fell madly in love with my King and they lived happily ever after. Though, I would not have used the word 'seduced' in reference to your Queen. Nor would I have been so proud of fooling her."

Kael'thas grinned wide as he signed another page. "Oh I have no shame at all, why would I? It was cold-blooded seduction. She went first, and then I had my turn. You know, I don't think I ever revealed to you that Lady Liadrin sent Saturna all the way from Silvermoon, armed with a white solar festival dress to do me in, did I? A man has to defend himself against such cruel designs, doesn't he?"

"Well, now you make her sound like some sort of... Gnomish... femme-bot. Kael'thas, have you heard of those? Femme-bots are machines that engineers make to look exactly like real women. They can speak and dance and everything, but are only programmed for a singular purpose. And do you know what happens when one gets in the way of the mission, that is, too close?"

"Saturna wasn't... brainwashed or programmed or anything like that." Kael'thas frowned and wrote faster. "She's just genuinely sweet and obsessed with me. Maybe it looks too good to be true to someone who doesn't understand our love, but really, I am that... capable, and charming, and I even have sex-appeal, you yourself said so. I won Saturna and I deserve her, now will you drop the subject, Sorn?!" then, Kael'thas slammed down his stylus.

Many of the trinkets on Anasterian's old desk were upset, and Advisor Sorn startled. He raced to set them all properly again. "It was only another one of my little jokes, your Majesty. Don't you remember a good while ago when I joked it was Saturna's fangirl ghost come to haunt you and steal your underthings while at Tempest Keep? Heh, I suppose, though, back then I was nearly dead-on."

"Sorn! It wasn't funny then, and it isn't funny now. I order you, once and for all, to shut up!"

Sorn had been shouted down before, standing in this exact same spot by another, far more merciful Sunstrider. The old man set his jaw tight. Clearly, some line had been crossed.

A knock on the door. The Kor'kron Elite inspected it, and allowed Saturna to enter the royal office.

"Ah, Starshine... we were just talking about you. Orcs, I'm done for today."

Four green guards cracked their knuckles, necks, or leaned on the desk. They didn't answer to him.

Kael'thas looked nervously to Sorn, but the old man turned away, to the far wall.

"I... well, as we already discussed this morning I am about to re-instate the Convocation of Silvermoon, ahead of schedule. And, I just signed the last of your papers. So, it's only proper that you all enjoy the time I'm saving you and the care-taker minister or my future head of state, or whatever Thrall wants to call the person who is going to sit in my throne, nannying me, while I try to call sensible shots around here. That is, I mean to say, I'm giving you all something like a day off."

It took a further offer of free rounds of Sunstrider Special Reserve at Saltheril's Haven, before the guards agreed to leave he and Saturna alone. Sorn stubbornly waited to be dismissed first before going. Then, he left, flashed a concerned look at Saturna, and closed the door.

"...did I hear Sorn try and convince you that I was some sort of... Goblin robot?" Saturna hugged around Kael'thas' neck, floated ghastly into his lap and kissed him.

Kael'thas stroked his wife's pale, translucent hair lovingly.

She kissed the end of his nose. "Oh no, it seems that someone else around here is blue. Though, it's an improvement from all the shouting at Tempest Keep. Oh, Kael'thas, cheer up already." When he didn't, Saturna snuggled into his shoulder. "Gee, I wonder what we could ever do to cheer up the most handsome, talented man in all of Quel'thalas? All alone in this room together. And our son well taken care of, with a fair team of royal baby sitters?"

Kael'thas answered after a long, quiet moment. "We were made for one another Saturna. I needed you, exactly, and you needed me. I think... I'm sure that's all Sorn was trying to say."

"It's so adorable when you pout, Kael'thas. You should have more bad days."

"And I should take you on this desk, for being so absolutely perfect to me. Though... well it'd be a first for us, with you as a ghost. I apologize if I was insensitive."

Saturna was of a different mind, however. "Mmm! Please do. I'm Queen already, you eliminated the greatest threat to our family--and the Horde, might I add, that is surely what Thrall saw in you too. And I, officially, finally, saved you. Come on, Sunshine, you deserve it and I deserve it." she kissed and tugged his high red collar.

"...Except," as he followed her kisses, "that this is also my father's old desk."

"Oh. So... not kinky for you at all?"

Kael'thas groaned, and rubbed the heels of his hands over tired eyes. "I'm afraid not. And remember, I come from a family of shameless lechers, so I'm pretty sure that dear old dad had my step-mother on this desk. And those disgusting, trampy, enchanted breast-prints are probaby all in the carpet, smeared in some of the stained glass, or deep beneath that fast wall-paper job over there... Ugh, that's it, I definitely need this whole room refurbished."

They made their way around the desk, to leave. "What about you, are you alright, Saturna? I know you had a rough morning."

"Hrm? Oh, well I was very upset earlier--you know why--but I'm all done now."

"Just like that? Did you flip some sort of switch or something? Heh, no one forgives me that fast."

She squeezed his hand. "Maybe Blaize is in enormous trouble, but it's not as if he didn't earn it. I guess... as people go along in their lives, they are always finding out who true friends are. And trust me, if you could have heard how Blaize spoke to me after the incident--you would be on your side too... you would be on your side, hrm, that sounds funny."

Kael'thas snatched Saturna into a hug, lifted the ghost woman off of her feet--she floated a little up out of his arms--but then he caught and kissed her. "Love you. I just love you, darling. And yes, Blaize did get what he deserved, don't you ever question that."

"Kael'thas... where do you think Blaize will go? I'm still worried, this all fell apart so suddenly."

"World's End Tavern in Shatthrath City, about noon tomorrow."

Saturna blinked. "Um... excuse me?"

"Oh, someplace... we can only ever guess. I mean, I guessed. Just now. Don't worry about General Nathaniel Blaize, though, sweetheart. This was fair treatment for him, and then for your father. Now remember, I put Lord Byron Whiteblade in the Convocation of Silvermoon, too, which should make you feel better."

"Yes, it was very fair of you. Nepotism is a time-honored tradition. Speaking of family, you should see how our son took to the new bedroom--"

"Ack! Why did you show him that... it's crazy, and more than a little disturbing. Not to mention the brand new royal bedroom is supposed to be _ours._"

"Hehe. It's my doll collection I think he likes... You know," Saturna paused with her hand on the door nob. Her fingers wavered slightly in an invisible breeze that was not from this realm. "Belorim misses you. You aren't around him very much, even though we haven't been in Silvermoon for long. All these treaties to sign, and the talks... he's afraid of the Orcs, Kael'thas."

"But yet he always loved the red Fel Orcs as much as Illidan did."

Saturna covered her mouth. Kael'thas' mind raced in a desperate attempt to figure out if he'd said anything wrong.

"You promised me that you wouldn't say his name again."

"I know, and I'm sorry."

_You aren't still resentful that I gave the boy to you, Kael'thas? He was a gift, nor should you take any resentment toward me out on the child. My son._

Kael'thas made a fist and stifled the soul link with Illidan. Saturna was already on her way out of the door. "And, Starshine, I know that you don't dye your hair, but you should start. It's going black, or gray or something from stress."

_Stay in the Black Temple, Illidan. Do not speak to me again through this link unless spoken to. To her, you are dead, and I've yet to find a way to explain it otherwise. Those are the rules._

_Tyrande is still here with me Kael'thas, and my spies report that Malfurion has been freed to Darnassus. Azeroth is on the dawn of knowing. Please protect yourself and think of a lie for her soon._

_Don't you nag me about how to deal with MY WIFE!_

"...Yes, dear."

Saturna had stopped cold in the hallway. "I heard that."

Kael'thas made a fist, then released it. "What... did you hear?"

Saturna listened again. Kael'thas felt his heart racing. There was a part of himself that wanted to go down on knees, beg her forgiveness already. When at last he cleared his mind, though, he heard it too. A definite presence, someone barely visible walked right through Saturna, and reached a clawed hand out to Kael'thas.

"Saturna, get back!"

Mage-duels often began like this. One powerful sorcerer ambushed the other. When their abilities were matched, it was the edge on an opponent that made deadly difference. At the Academy in Dalaran, one never asked 'Why' when another student attacked. Good marks were terribly painful to get through scholarship, and sheer elimination--a leg too broken to stand and cast a spell on, a shield cast around an opponent in the dark of a tavern-party which silenced him for a day or more before an exam, or worst--and Kael'thas had done this to Jaina once--a spell lock so complex and convoluted, that she had been eliminated, at least magically, for an entire semester. She, nor Arthas, could de-code it fast enough for her to make up the missed grades. Kael'thas graduated at the top of their class. Arthas wasn't a student at the Academy, but he found a way to be around and harrass Kael'thas during every holiday break Jaina had free. It was frustrating enough when Kael'thas actually dated Jaina, and insufferable after the two of them broke up and Arthas unleashed the brunt of his contempt on his rival for Jaina's heart. And so, during that last horrifying semester, Kael'thas did the unthinkable and targeted the object of adoration instead of the man himself. It was a cowardly, backwards thing to do. But it was also a cold, and perfect strike. Both of them were left looking as ridiculous as their on and off again 'I'm not really ready to marry or propose to you yet, but let's make out right in front of Kael'thas on the way to class every day' stupid, stupid relationship. Stupid!

Kael'thas knew it was Jaina even before she blinked past him. They crossed each other, mid-spell, because he knew to do the same. Energy to energy, his red to her blue, particles of each person filtered just barely unscathed, and then their faces coalesced out of the slowed-stop of reality.

"You bastard..." Jaina was saying.

"So Thrall dumped you too, huh?" was Kael'thas' response.

A feminine shriek. Jaina's hand formed out of thin air next, and the first thing she did was release a shimmering bolt of ice. It swelled and took up nearly the entire hallway. The rest of her body appeared, second.

Kael'thas made a fist and punched the head of the icebolt. The spell burst into a thousand glittering pieces. Then, he fully appeared, and called a curse down upon Jaina's blonde head.

"I just had my hair done!"

"For your last date with Thrall? This freakish make-up thing with me? Or, for your first date with Arthas?"

"I HATE you, Kael'thas Olvi'athon Sunstrider."

Saturna pressed up against the wall when Jaina targeted her next, then the ghost-woman disappeared.

"You'd take this out on my wife? Oh, you've gone crazy."

Jaina walked to the empty spot along the wall, grasped it. Kael'thas kept his arm outstretched, ready to blast at her with anything. Palace guards came running with their shields raised, but Kael'thas shouted for them not to come any closer. They were stopped several yards out, but Jaina Proudmore was that dangerous.

"That was your wife? She isn't a Tauren."

"Why the fel would she be?!"

Jaina turned circles and leaned up on her toes, glancing all around the hallway, and over Kael'thas' head.

"Hey, down here! You started a fight with _me_, remember."

"Yeah, I know. You punched a piercing frostbolt with your bare hand, which means you aren't just a Bloodmage anymore, you've done something else terrible to yourself to get that powerful... but the scientist in me wants to know what the fel kind of creature your wife is."

"She's an elf. I wouldn't be caught dead with another Human woman."

Jaina sniffed the air. "Purest form of arcane magic I've ever encountered, almost as strong as the Sunwell. Twenty parts per million."

"Stop it Jaina, you're going down the wrong path here, I warn that I will kill you--I don't care what Thrall thinks--if you go where I think you're going with this..."

Jaina snapped out of it. "Thrall thinks that I cheated on him! Did you start that rumor? Are you still out to ruin my reputation, and my life? Valedictorian at the Academy wasn't enough for you, was it? And so the first thing you do, when you get back to Azeroth..."

"Saturna, darling, I know there are a lot of crazy things being being said right now, but I did not _ever_ cheat on you with Jaina Proudmore."

A disembodied, "I know, Sunshine..."

"Sunshine?! So you have stupid pet names for each other? And that voice... that is a mortal voice, Kael'thas. This woman isn't conjured, she's real."

"What of it? And I'm not the source of your relationship problems with Thrall. How dare you come into my castle and accuse me, I could take this as a declaration of war with Theramore Isle, you know."

"Thrall has got you in a caretaker government, your hands are tied from a military standpoint. Ha, don't talk State with me. Did you just call your wife Saturna? Saturna Whiteblade? The fangirl Bloodknight? I thought she was dead."

Kael'thas threw forth his other hand and fired a shadow spell at Jaina. She called a frost shield and absorbed it. Meanwhile, she folded her arms pensively. "How did you resurrect a woman who had a Naga rune scrawled into her dead body. Does she even have a body?"

Kael'thas told the guards to come on already and take Jaina. But they were too afraid now.

"No, I know you, you would want to have sex, you can't live without that, Olvi'athon. So she does have a corporeal form. And, she can also disappear... I walked right through her earlier, didn't I? I felt it... cold. Cold like Arthas and the afterlife."

"How do you know what Arthas feels like? Or, was he cold and a waste of skin even back then?"

"Why do you get to be with your dead ex-girlfriend, but I lost my Arthas?! I'm not a bad person, but you are vile. I've only ever done what I thought was right. How can fate be such a scheming bitch all along? You get to be valedictorian, you get to play with your powers and destroy another planet, Thrall lets you come back to this castle... and you have some chickie fangirl ghost wife, and a son too, I hear? This just can't be."

Suddenly, Jaina blinked across the room. Kael'thas turned around to see Saturna wrested in Jaina's arms. Jaina pulled Saturna by the undead hair, craned her neck to look all over the ghost Queen and into her eyes. "Gods, I should have known. How could I have missed this? Who else in her right mind would help you? And it's only by her consent that you're back here, Kael'thas. But what I want to know is, considering what's going on in Dragonblight these days, how in the Titans' names did you ever convince a blue dragon to help the twisted cause of the Blood Elf Prince?"

Kael'thas did not think. He raised both arms and both he and Jaina disappeared. Saturna was left gasping for air and calling her husband's name in the empty hallway.

_Far and away, a place with water all around..._

Jaina reappeared over the black ocean. She thought that she saw the flicker of phoenix-fire above, but when she righted herself--for she was falling too fast--any semblance of Kael'thas had gone. Jaina could not deal with him now, however. In only moments, she would break against the sharp water, burst as if hitting stone from so high up. She guessed that she was not very far out from Quel'thalas, for Kael'thas to move this fast. Jaina cast a spell of her own, disappeared just a hair's breadth above the surface of water, and in the next moment, blue particles of her magic-self raced to catch Kael'thas--hurtling red energy--both of them speeding faster than light and sound, the world so sluggish that it was dumb and stuck around them. He wanted to protect his wife, but Jaina wanted to know more, she wanted to see Saturna Whiteblade again and learn the last secret of her unfair resurrected life, stop the cruel twist of fate that gave her to evil Kael'thas and stole Thrall and Arthas away, avenge the imbalance!

The red spectre of Kael'thas passed through a bright violet shield. The sudden dome flashed into place over the trees, castle spires, and coastline of Quel'thalas. Jaina slammed immediately to it, re-formed as her Human self, and screamed when the power of this magical barrier--the size of the entire kingdom--sparked to life. Caretaker government or no, there would be no ambushing Kael'thas or Silvermoon again anytime soon. How was Kael'thas this powerful?

"You over-powered, selfish, scheming sonofabitch!" she screamed, before blinking out of sight again.

Jaina went back to Dalaran. Her assistant, a solemn Night Elf woman named Pained, asked about 'the talk with Thrall', but Jaina went directly into her bedroom and slammed the door in the Kal'dorei's face.

_Dear Arthas,_

_She's twenty parts per million of the purest arcane magic known to man... she's the Sunwell. Arthas, she's made from the Sunwell. The Sunwell still exists, and Anveena, I hear her name is Anveena these days... I'm not making any sense, but the Sunwell herself has sided with Kael'thas! And she resurrected the woman Kael'thas loved. Saturna had died. She went to the Black Temple and did something stupid three years ago, she deserved to get killed for trying to date Kael'thas in the middle of a war and change him. Then she whored herself all about there, I heard a rumor that she was with Illidan too, and Kael'thas' General before even that... you must know the story. I just can't... The molecules of her alchemy are outstanding, Arthas, that is what makes me so livid about all of this. Here, I can map it out for you exactly. I think she may just be Undead enough for us to..._

And Jaina found herself going on, feverishly, for pages. One look at the specimen, and Jaina had analyzed Saturna completely, from head to toe. Jaina knew exactly what Kael'thas' wife was made of, she had hypothesized the why, and then theorized Saturna's natural weaknesses in her present state. Arthas would be fascinated to know, he wouldn't be able to resist, in fact. Then he would finally come back. He would get Saturna, then thank the woman who set it all up in the first place. Jaina would not even get in any trouble for it. She didn't have to spell it out, Arthas would pick it right up, he could be that vicious, imagine the possibilities... And then Kael'thas would finally get what he deserved for making so many people suffer. There was no way that she was going to let Kael'thas get away, if Thrall was not brave enough. Stormwind would never get its chance, but Arthas, somewhere, was still the Prince of Lordaeron, wasn't he? And he was a paladin, he could bring Kael'thas to justice.

At last, the Lady of Theramore put her pen down. A marble bust of her late father had long been in the corner of her eye. She walked over to the statuette and touched it lightly, with a finger. Jaina cried. No, she could not be like her father, who would rather wreak havoc and die, than try to live with reformed green Orcs. This was cold-blooded revenge. And it was not against Kael'thas.

"Oh my goodness... what is wrong with me? Do I really have it in me to just hand over an innocent to Arthas? Whether I like Saturna Whiteblade or not, she's just a person. A person who suffered greatly... How is this crazy idea of mine different from anything that Arthas does, or that his minions do in Northrend? I can't mail this." Jaina felt sick. A part of her searched for that angry voice... wasn't there a voice sometimes, propelling her forward? Alone, she lacked the guile... perhaps it was that Orgrimmar had no magical barriers, but Silvermoon and Theramore Isle had invisible shields that could block out hauntings, invasive curses... Now, she had a headache. Jaina wouldn't dare become desperate now and blame her actions on some kind of... other presence. These actions of late were solely her own. No one else was to blame. Perhaps, deep down, she really was her father's daughter? Jaina crumpled the many pages of letter, and went to lay down.

But, there was already a blue troll sleeping there. He popped up all of a sudden, directly onto his big feet, crouched, and waved.

Then, someone's cold hand covered Jaina's mouth from behind. She stiffened immediately, and passed out.

"Eh, Zabran, why are ye always the one to startle her? I'm a Dwarf, and I kin hardly reach up that high." the Dwarf Deathknight lay frozen Jaina down carefully on the floor.

"Cause I tink it's funny." Zabran didn't laugh though. He lazily swept an arm out, and a black portal to Icecrown opened. The gate was hemmed in by twisted black bone. Bright orange fire hissed and flickered at its base.

"Hey, what's that, Zabran? Another love letter for the Lich King?"

Zabran shrugged. "Look, mon, de other servants of Arthas keep dyin' cause dey do stupid tings like touch stuff dat don't belong to dem. Da rule is, we come in, we freeze her, we take her through da portal, got it?"

"Oh, what's this here about Kael'thas' Undead wife? Seems she got a first-hand look at the new Queen. Ha! And Jaina's a jealous fruitbat ain't she?"

Zabran snatched the letter and read it himself. "You get her, I get dis."

"Hammers and all, Zabran! But I was the one who found it--"

"I know, I'm just smoothin' it out for ya." Zabran pressed it against his armored chest, and tried to un-crinkle the paper. "You da one gonna show it to da Master... and if he keel you, then I don't get in any trouble for taking it. But if he like da idea, den I keel you for stealin' it from me."

The newest partner of Zabran, the Dwarf deathknight blanched. "Ahaha... ha... I see, that's a good joke, ol' Zabran."

"Yah mon, joke."

Then, over Pained's polite knocking on the door, the three of them left.

_She should have locked her window..._

Saturna lingered near the cold glass of the royal bedroom. She gazed up at the moon and hugged her shoulders. Where was Kael'thas tonight? Someplace else, she didn't care. Saturna had not wanted to sleep with him. She was far too upset, and confused by how Jaina touched her, or looked at her. Of course, Kael'thas loved her, and he did everything he could to save her. In fact, he assured that Jaina Proudmore was most likely dead.

Like Illidan. But Saturna had this strong feeling, it was an old feeling too, whenever Kael'thas was lying to her. And for some reason, today, that impulse came back stronger than ever.

But then Sorn came in, shouting that Malfurion and Lady Vashj had taken Darnassus. They were amassing an army, too. Saturna wanted to know what happened to Tyrande, then. Who had she left Malfurion for?

Kael'thas got angry, he shouted at her, really yelled this time. Saturna did not want to face Belorim like that. She did not want to face Kael'thas again like that. And not after this terrible day. There was yet, another secret between them. This time, rather than wait for a fast explanation, Saturna chose to trust instinct and isolate herself from anyone who might help Kael'thas with his lie. Of course she was eager to be with her husband again, for the first time since Anveena raised her and made gave her a new body and life. It would be special for them... but sex had long been Kael'thas' way of completely undoing Saturna and she finally accepted that the thrill of being with him wasn't just because he felt good. Her husband used it as a weapon, and she always liked watching Kael'thas use power. Some place in her heart cherished his cruelty, thought his ability to dominate her and every other person or situation was sexy. So then, what did Kael'thas see in her? Someone to oppress? Did that turn him on? And so making love to a King who--in a way she still could not perceive--had stolen his crown, avoided his son as if he was guilty that he'd stolen him too, and then also his wife? What was he so afraid of? This was not a man Saturna could justify sleeping with, not yet.

Whom could she turn to, to ask for an honest opinion, even if it was criticism of Kael'thas? Blaize was gone. The other Bloodknights were sworn to loyalty, and out celebrating Kael'thas' victory, in fact. Lady Liadrin said something about someone running off to Undermine... And Saturna's parents would only tell her to go back to the palace and 'be a better wife and Queen to Kael'thas, that's what we raised you for.'

"Ugh, my parents were always pushing me into the royal seat too. But I find that relatives are a lot like dogs, Saturna, you can expect them to be loyal, but only to a point. Sometimes, they go to far, get rabid while they live with you, trying to control your life... it's why I put my father down."

The voice had been muffled. There were several large windows that lined the long wall in that dark room. Saturna pressed up against the cold glass to try and see where it had come from. Then, glass broke. A great big silvery greave kicked playfully at the toe as someone shook glass free at the final window pane, then pulled his leg back in. A man's hand reached in next, flipped up the latch at the base of the window with a poised flick of fingers--he was used to dropping in ladies windows, wasn't he? The hand withdrew up and carefully over cut shards of glass, then disappeared back into the darkness. Finally, the whole window creaked gently open, as if it were still possible to be polite about all this after kicking in glass. At last, a man hoisted himself over the precarious window ledge and landed hard on his feet. Saturna thought it was some terrible joke at first. No guards were coming. Did they already know? Kael'thas?

It was a Human man. He carried no sword, nor did he wear any apparent armor. Fine black slacks, a tailored shirt, sweeping night-blue cape. Heavy, loud, clomping oversized boots. Well, no, there was the armor afterall. He kicked out a little as he walked, so that he could step down hard on the soles, throw himself off balance only to work the swagger of strong shoulders into his walk. Or, was this mean way of walking meant to cover how he never quit the joy of swinging his arms since boyhood? He wore three audacious rings on each finger, but all six were far too exotic and unmatched; a man worked his entire life to earn something so gilded or meaningful through military service or scholarship, and these were six lifetimes' worth... had they been pilfered? The Human's eyes were dark. In this faint light, they seemed more the weary wear of a man who'd spent far too many nights of his young manhood indulging drink, debauchery and what else. The sloppy smile intimated that he didn't regret a moment of his trifling past, either. Perhaps he'd never stopped. But since he wasn't yet dead, then he'd mastered the lifestyle. Passage of time had not caught him, misdeeds had not come back to haunt him, he'd outlived and laughed at every misfortune. All that, and the happy whistling off-tune as he walked, caused the man to rove from intimidating in one step, to easy and natural in the next. When Saturna stared, he opened his arms, bade the Queen to come closer and try her luck finding out exactly what sort of mood he was in.

"Like my boots? Care to lick them? I've crushed skulls with these."

Saturna clutched her nightgown closed and grimaced. "I... don't know you?"

"Yes you do. By the way, your husband's shield was a big bitch to get through, I had to leave Frostmourne in there to wedge the hole open. And actually, I'm a fan of yours. Well, your work anyways. No one, and I mean no one--still alive--has ever been able to get to Kael'thas the way you do. He's completely obsessed with you. Loves you, adores you... just you. No one and nothing else. Not even his son. I mean, damn! I wish I could just twist Kael'thas' arm like that."

"Kael'thas loves our son. And I'm going to call the guard--"

Arthas stepped into the moonlight and bowed low, grand. "Oh, you wouldn't do that to another handsome Prince would you? My Queen, the illustrious Saturna Whiteblade... all my hopes of screwing Kael'thas died when you did and then you... well, you stopped screwing him. I wanted him to die in that fire with you--I just knew that you'd lead him spectacularly astray, or at least throw him directly into Illidan's angry path... but somehow, Kael'thas escaped alive. And you'd died. Well, the whole of two worlds thought you were dead and cursed forever. But yet, here you are, conveniently sort of living again, Undead and not causing him anymore trouble. I mean, none at all? What is up with that? But Undeath and trouble... those happen to be my specialty. You see, my most recent puppet just ruined her assignment and broke to pieces. But, before she snapped, she told me that there was a brand new toy waiting for me in Silvermoon. And this one is Undead too--she's far easier to control--isn't that convenient? Which means I am going to get this Achievement afterall, and The Game can go on."

Saturna opened her mouth to scream, but Arthas pulled her near with a thread of purple energy that erupted from her chest, and leapt, lightning quick, into the palm of his hand. He tugged her, hugged her, smelled her, did a little happy foxtrot with Saturna and dipped her low.

"No, no, precious, don't talk. I can't let you ruin this moment for me. I'd like to think it's my Princely charm that sent you racing across the room right now, not any Deathknight powers."

"What do you want?" Saturna tried to fight, disappear, something. But then, when she looked into those sparking blue eyes... Yes, he was, indeed, another Prince. What in the world was she doing? This was insane, what was wrong with her, giving instantly in to men like these!

"Why, my dear, I've come a'courting. How would you like to come away with me and live in a beautiful palace made of ice? You can have all the servants you want, though Zabran seems to keep killing off his partners. We had a Human with him just last week. You can also ditch the kid who isn't really his to begin with, and then you will be living a new, single life, care-free. All you have to do is pledge your soul to me."

"What is going to happen to Kael'thas?"

Arthas stamped his foot and rolled his eyes up at the ceiling. "Oh, no, no, no. Can't we leave some special things for after we're bonded master-to-slave? We should spend some time getting to know one another first before we get down to the dirty naked dance, the exchange of sweat and blood, the physical secrets. If not, then there won't be any trust in our relationship. That's the mistake that Illidan and Kael'thas made years ago, in case you missed the joke. Saturna, right now, you're still a Lich King virgin and I'd like keep you that way, when I have big plans for Kael'thas, and you have a really complex role in it all. I thought it up these last twenty minutes on the way over, too, aren't you impressed? Just come here, honey," he waggled a finger, "you're the bait."

Saturna gained resolve. "I am a Bloodknight, forged to oppose the very forces you set loose across Azeroth. And, it is my ultimate goal in life to kill you, Arthas!"

"You know, I was being romantic and polite." Arthas frowned, seized her back, then blew against her ear. "I could just take your damned soul."

Then, he tried it.

Saturna stood in the middle of the floor, shaking. Nothing happened.

"How the flying fuck..." Arthas tried again, making a fist. "Is this because I left Frostmourne behind? But I don't need the sword for this kind of summoning, when you're twenty-parts-per-million... well damn me and roast pigs! Saturna Whiteblade, your soul already belongs to someone else."

"It's Kael'thas!" she defied Arthas.

"Heh, no, it really isn't. I would be able to sense something that pathetic. I know his Nerdboy magic." Arthas paced. "Jaina was right about every little detail regarding you, except for this. Saturna, please come to Northrend with me. Now I'm worried about you, don't you believe me? You are being lied to, and ruthlessly. Wouldn't you like to know who set you up like this?"

"I... no! I'm not going anywhere with you."

"Why not, because of stranger-danger? Oh, right. I laid waste to your homeland. Well then... with your soul the way it is, I can't really take you without your consent. Are you sure you don't want to run away with me forever? I happen to have it on good authority--that of a soon to be Death God--that I am a handsome and available Prince."

_THE LICH KING AGREES THAT ARTHAS IS A HANDSOME AND AVAILABLE PRINCE._

"See?" Arthas cleared his throat after the Death-god voice. "And I swear I've never been a ventrilloquist in life."

"I won't go with you, Arthas; I'm absolutely sure."

"Double sure? One hundred percent with a cherry on top? Hrm... would you like to try a popsicle?"

"No, I don't want anything of _yours!_"

"Saturna, do you like petting kittens?"

"Yes."

"Chocolate? Kael'thas? Sex? Would you like a new dress?"

"Yes.. yes.. yes..."

"Do you like the color purple? Want to come with me to Icecrown? Bunnies?"

"I said yes already!"

...And that is how Arthas got Saturna Whiteblade to come with him to Northrend.

**Author's Note:**

I know what you're thinking: What happened to General Blaize? What about the royal bedroom? Or, the doll collection? And Bloodknights in Undermine, what the heck! Yes, and... a bunch of other things that I glossed over. I didn't forget. All those things will be in the next chapter. But not the enchanted boobs, that's much later.


	5. The Unmaiden

**Revenge of Kael'thas**

**Chapter Four: The Unmaiden (this is not a corny title)  
**

"I will prove it to you!" Arthas announced when they arrived. He tossed Frostmourne onto his bed like a careless freed schoolboy, and when an armored soldier peeled off from the white wall to catch it, Saturna shrieked.

"Oh, that's a pretty voice you have. Banshee siprano? We have a chorus, actually. You might want to audition with Headmaster Soulnote in your spare time… Zabran, close the door please."

Saturna watched the Troll Deathknight saunter past and work several heavy clicking mechanisms on the studded ice-frosted door. Then he smiled at her with all his yellow, jagged teeth. One tusk was chipped, and a tuft of amber Dwarf hair was stuck in a snag of bone.

"Now then, sugarlump." Arthas itched his head idly, and yawned. "As I said, I'm a big fan of yours. I've seen the kind of work you can do with Kael'thas, I already know about the Illidan seducing you bit, and the brainwashing… but believe it or not, this is different. I want to help you, paladin to paladin."

"Excuse me, but paladins and Blood Knights and Deathknights are all completely—"

"Wow…" he gasped. "You _are_ annoying. Sit down, woman, before you give yourself a heart attack. Give me a chance, alright? I'm still sworn to the Light, aren't I? Or, at least dependent on the Unholy aspect of it. I can't fight if I don't believe, and I did die with some moral code, or else my impulses would be crazed and disorganized. I'd be like some limber string puppet of nightmare." And he started dancing about, flailing arms and limbs. Saturna almost laughed, but then snatched a hand over her mouth. He crouched and she scrabbled backward. "Paladin to paladin, Saturna Whiteblade, that the King of the Blood Elves was able to undo one of us so completely is an embarassment. It makes me angry. Now, I don't just want to make you into a weapon against him, I want to make it hurt, I want to make it last. I want Kael'thas and everyone else in this life to remember that they had better not try and cross one of us ever again. Paladins have honor."

"You can't possibly care."

"Magnus the Unmaker is a Blood Knight too, isn't he? Kael'thas spoke to him immediately after the two of you were married."

Saturna touched a finger to her mouth. "But we're enemies."

Arthas rolled his eyes. Saturna tried again, "Why would Kael'thas speak to an enemy of my order?"

"I see, so there is a secret sect of Bloodknights even within the bad crop of bloodletters the Alliance has been pained with making acquaintance of. And you are one of them. That makes even more sense. And Magnus is a rogue sort?"

Now, she feared to say anything good or ill.

"Put two and two together, sweetie. Kael'thas…" and he placed his hands far to the left, walking her through every stage of it, "conspired with an enemy of your special little group in order to screw you—and literally, I mean. Which makes Kael'thas… your…"

Saturna made Arthas regret waiting for it. "My… husband?"

Zabran breathed heavily through his nose. "I go put on some coffee, Masta Arthas."

"Tanks, mon." Arthas watched Zabran bristle at the impersonation first, and then the Troll went. "Saturna, maybe we're missing a big piece of this. I promise it won't take long, if you _pay attention._ Do you know what sort of power Magnus has? I'm fairly sure that I do."

The ghost woman blurred a little, in an invisible flicker of otherworldly reception. Arthas played at adjusting her long ears until she slapped his hands away. "I'm thinking, but I don't know for sure what Magnus does specially, none of us do!"

"And yet you gave him a fancy name. Though no one in your sect knows what it even means or where it comes from."

My apologies, it was a plot device for quick and dirty character development. Back to the story…

"Lookit. You're giving me a headache, Saturna. Let's go back even further, back to the beginning. If you won't believe that Kael'thas is your enemy, then at least admit you came here with me because you sensed he was doing wrong?"

Saturna bit her lip and turned as pale as a blue ghost could get. Arthas took the coffee cup and saucer Zabran offered, pursed his lips and blew on it as they all waited. But she was taking too long. "Geez… you still don't see that you truly came here of your own volition? Because you hate that man? Though I'm flattered by what it indicates you think of my abilities, this won't do at all. Here." He forced the hot drink into her floating hands. "Warm up, okay? Then tell me what's really got you so frazzled, because it isn't me. I've never come across a woman so completely relaxed in my presence after I became Lich King, to be honest."

Saturna warily had a sip of coffee. It was incredibly bitter. "But this feels so wrong."

"Yeah, I know. I feel wrong all over, baby."

Saturna raised her eyebrows.

"Mrs. Sunstrider, I think I may have the answer to your most desperate questions."

"Why am I still drinking this coffee?"

"I had twenty more minutes to think on the flight over; you bet I do. But it's already been demonstrated once this evening that you are mule-stubborn on any topic regarding Kael'thas. So, let's disprove this unnatural loyalty first. Then, once I win your trust, I will attempt to, once and for all, fix you. Now, in your own words…"

_Saturna sipped and became bubbly, though the coffee wasn't. She was frighteningly well-suited to bursts of energy, hyperactive passion…_

Arthas, I don't know where to begin, this has all been so frazzly, like you said! But, it is a truth universally acknowledged that a fangirl in possession of a Prince, must be in want of more Princes.

I mean to say that, Kael'thas and I just started our real lives together. He'd finally become King, but I just wasn't happy. Only about a day or so into our marriage, I began to wish for those times when he was something of a bachelor, and I chasing him innocently from one adventure to another. At least those struggles were more concrete: save Kael'thas from evil. I could see where he was going, and I knew enough to identify where he should be instead. And then I would push him, or with the help of other Bloodknights, we'd all nudge him into the right moral direction. This was intensely hard all of a sudden after we were married, though. I sensed that something sneaky was going on with him, but I had no idea where the dark meddling was coming from. It was as if evil was all around us, even in our bedroom between the sheets. Why, I tried to convey my feelings of misgiving to Kael'thas just this morning.

"Mister Sunstrider," I said, because I so like hearing our new family name, "Do you look forward to Warchief Thrall bringing a company of Orcs to Silvermoon? There is going to be a new government for sure, and lasting peace for all of Quel'thalas. What a nice time to become King."

"I rather don't, Mrs. Sunstrider." said Kael'thas. "You're adorable as always, but any strain on my power will only serve to encourage the enemies of this family."

"Surely, however, it will benefit our little Belorim, who is close to christening age. A proper family name would very much suit him in these trying times when tradition is oft challenged. And it won't be too long now, before he is ready to be crowned in the very pattern of his father. I am thinking of providing our boy a proper kingdom and wife someday!"

It took my Kael'thas far too long to answer. I tried again, "Perhaps, a happy balance could be achieved if you went to wait upon Thrall and then applied to him for a shared government, half-Orc and half Blood Elf? Or, I suppose we could always throw a ball. Balls solve everything. Especially your royal balls, Mr. Sunstrider."

"Woman, don't be so ridiculous. The Sunstriders aren't known for their balls." Well, he called me Starshine, he always does, but 'woman' has more effect, I think! "Unless… I could re-institute the Convocation of Silvermoon."

"Why that's splendid—"

"Before Thrall can even complain about it. I'll stack the seats completely in my favor, Mrs. Sunstrider."

I was shocked. He'd taken one of my ideas and twisted it to his sole advantage. And then, the King began to apply to me, for some romantic entertainment.

"This is most unnecessary, Kael'thas, when you've already proven yourself worthy in my eyes." I removed his arm from around me, and seized more of the sheets to cover myself. Arthas, what are you scowling at? This is how Sunshine and I really talk when we're alone.

Mr. Sunstrider glared at me, completely agitated at my eluding him for the second, um, opportunity for romantic entertainment in our marriage. "Are you my wife or are you not, Mrs. Sunstrider?"

"I am," said I.

"Me too," said Miss Ruthsalia. Ruthie is Kael'thas' succubus, and she always sleeps with us. Really, Arthas, groaning is very rude, over a story.

"Then why do you insist on rejecting me, Saturna?" and now you're laughing at him, Arthas. Shh!

"There's an entire lifetime between us it seems, Sunshine. Suppose you won't like me, as a ghost? I couldn't survive the shame."

I will suffice it to say that Mr. Sunstrider gave every assurance of my worth to him as a woman, ghost or no, until he tried to… er… consummate our married relationship and found getting it on with a ghost to be quite impossible. He made some frustrated excuse, snapped for the succubus Ruthsalia to follow him, and they both went from the royal bedroom. Oh, I had nothing to do but stare at my Kael'thas doll collection in the meantime! I had all my figurines and Kael'thas paraphenelia shipped over to the castle from home, you see. I felt so utterly worthless and it was all I could do to feel close to my dear husband.

I busied myself with dusting, polishing, and kissing the heads of many blonde dolls until, around noon, our son Belorim entered his parents' chief residence in the Sunspire.

"Mommy," said our cute little babe, "I said 'hello' to Daddy dis morning, but he ignored me."

I remarked to Belorim that perhaps Mr. Sunstrider had not heard, little Bim Bim being so close to the fine carpeted ground, and the shining palace walls being so wonderfully tall.

"No, he's being mean." Belorim sat at a little handcrafted table with red and gold tea-cups. I'm sure that I pouted too, poured him an imaginary fangirl tea—still piping hot and sweet from when I was a girl—and we discussed the problem at length. As Bim stared into his cup, the golden inset reflected all his hurt features, there was a fair growl in the cherub face. Ever since Tempest Keep, when General Blaize got the Sunfury troops ready, his Daddy had changed, Belorim worried. They weren't friends anymore. I scolded him, how could his father ever not be friends, that was just impossible. Bim Bim meant too much to both of us.

"He told me I was going to grow horns like my _real_ father. But why he said dat?"

Kael'thas was being as mean to our son as he had been to myself this morning. I resolved to settle this once and for all, immediately!

_Arthas interrupted…_

"What have you been reading lately, Saturna, you naughty girl?"

Her hands shook, as she drank a fourth cup of Zabran's specially brewed coffee.

"An ancient Thallassian classic where the g-girl gets the Prince. Th-there was nothing else to do, with my Mr. Darcy so busy with Orcs all day, y-y-yesterday."

"No, I be tinkin' Mr. Bingsley be more of a man, mon. Least he cut his losses early on, dump dat plain Jane like I woulda'. And dat Elizabeth be too much of a Mary Sue, fightin' zombies and such wit her bare hands. Ugh." Zabran was on his fifth cup.

Arthas refused more coffee for her or any of them in the room, really, and waited with interminable patience for Saturna to compose herself.

_She began again after a time, twittering more sensibly…_

Kael'thas was in the throne room, doing exactly as he had indicated earlier. "Sorn… whom do you think we should assign, after Lorth'remar? There are two spots left."

I was still chiefly invisible. It was my intention to spook my husband out of his wits and then demand the truth behind his cruel comments to our son.

"Lord Byron Whiteblade, of course. He would be a very safe selection, and pleasing to the Queen."

I honestly recanted, when I learned that my father might be granted a seat on the Convocation of Silvermoon.

"One more space…" Kael'thas passed his gaze over the remainder of his court. Several soldiers stood at attention, checked their medals and capes in enchanted lanternlights. All of the King's Bloodknights, Lady Liadrin, and General Blaize were there as well, waiting for the next order of business. "Liadrin, you're the head of my royal protection force. How would you like the last seat?"

"Why, my King, I'm speechless, what an honor!"

"I SAY THAT IT IS NOT!" went Mr. Wickham. Blaize, I mean. General Blaize said it. "I was going to hold my tongue when you were packing our most honorable political body with sychophants and aristocrats like yourself. But, if you are going to put a military leader in the Convocation of Silvermoon, it should be none other than your General."

"I beg your pardon, Blaize, but the Matriarch of the Blood Knights has every right in this case, as well. I daresay more right, considering what a blunder your Sunfury have long been."

Mr. Blaize turned to Liadrin and they argued on the matter most intensely. He cited many instances where her Blood Knights failed King Kael'thas. Most recently, Tempest the Raven and Sunthraze the Sly failed to protect Kael'thas from Warchief Thrall, before even then, Tempest Keep burned almost to the ground when a rogue Legion Ranger set his sights on Kael'thas and her knights failed to prevent the perverted ruse, and the first most awful offense was when a certain deceased Saturna Whiteblade—oh, that's me!--failed to save Kael'thas from the manipulative clutches of Lord Illidan.

I was consumed with passion and revealed myself, if I was going to be the subject of debate. "I gave Kael'thas hope, and I loved him desperately while at the Black Temple. When have any of your Sunfury ever done that?"

Lady Liadrin had covered her face. General Blaize dropped his sword. Kael'thas stood beside me, and Advisor Sorn raised his clipboard and stylus at the ready.

Even now, I am unsure whether or not Blaize was astonished to see that I had lived, or if he was devastated to see how I had suffered. He applied for, and was given my air-light hand. "How?"

I attempted to explain my miracle of existence, though I surely mouthed words untenable to his ears. Survivor of survivors, the General of the Sunfury army surely realized that he had outlived Outland, Lord Illidan, the Legion, and his Majesty's wrath all to be cruelly abused.

"Kael'thas, even for you… man to man, this is the worst offense I have ever experienced. She is your Queen as well, I presume?"

For I did not go anywhere without my fifteen-pointed diamond tiara. Arthas, please do stop snoring!

Kael'thas replied that we had been married, first thing, when I was resurrected.

"I came here to represent my soldiers' concern that no land nor Hawkstrider had been given them—to make good on your conscription promise so many years ago, but I see now that will be impossible to satisfy, when your pride drives you to do such cruel things to a gentleman's honor!"

"What I do to Saturna, nightly, is hardly cruel. And it is all my pleasure too."

I must have snapped. I was shouting that I received no such sexual generosity from him, and faces going very red, when Blaize came forth and kissed me quiet. Kael'thas drew the sword of a guard, and tore us apart.

"You will have no place on the Convocation of Silvermoon, nor do you have any place in my beloved's life. You'll get no inheritance from me, nor my forefathers. And that is as it should be!"

At last, Blaize got his sword again and he faced off with Mr. Sunstrider. Such a blow to the General's honor could not go unchecked, but I felt for them both. Kael'thas had set out to comfort me when I first revived. I made desperate pleas, and he satisfied every single one, to my present knowledge. It can't have been a swift or simple effort, either.

"Gentlemen with such perfectly good manners should not go on in this way." Lady Liadrin warned, touching the Whiteblade. Blaize shouted something which turned her exactly off, however. She paled when he threatened to use her own secret trespass against Kael'thas' father to make her recent assignment to government impossible.

But, curiously, Kael'thas did not ask what that was. Advisor Sorn came forward, and adjusted the green monacle he is so used to wearing. "Are you willing to commit regicide, to satisfy an old feud over a lady, General Blaize? Surely, to secure his standing with the lady, his Majesty was inclined to ask first for her hand in marriage and do so, deftly. Nor is it ever proper to inform a stranger of one's personal life, especially if that person is lesser."

"Me?! Lesser than Kael'thas, and a stranger to him! What can you possibly mean, you old fool?"

"And do you further insist, that you have a right to claim the King's power as well as his woman? That is a threat of treason in its most primal state. Could you be more determined to unseat the alpha male!"

Blaize was forced to parry, when suddenly Kael'thas thrust mightily at him with the borrowed blade. I feared that my ex-husband was being antagonized. And guilt came along with it, that I should still feel so protectively toward an old love. But he was surrounded on all sides by those who suddenly did not like him, and then the weight of present events of Silvermoon bore down upon us all as well. For Warchief Thrall's peaceful intervention in the city, Blaize was no longer needed by Kael'thas either.

"You have struck the King." Sorn motioned for guards. I moved quickly to Kael'thas' side and begged him relieve Blaize of consequences due to his own royal misconduct.

"Oh, my wife has an excellent point. Here, Blaize." And my ex-husband did draw near, trusting that I had resolved it. Kael'thas grinned evilly, however. "I shall take your advice too, actually. So very many times, you've tempted me to do as much, in fact, fell short of ordering me around on this point. Now, I feel completely guiltless. You were born for this fate, weren't you? Your very name suggests it." Then, Kael'thas snapped, Sorn got the cape from across Blaize's back, and then handed it to the King. We all watched in horror as Mr. Sunstrider ripped it in two pieces. "You're fired."

And a worse blow, Kael'thas informed the guards that Blaize was banished from all of Quel'thalas too. The old General had a mere hour to get his things and vanish.

I wailed, true to my newest nature. Kael'thas tried to amuse me, at how wonderfully fiendish it all was, but I saw the veins and edges of my husband's hair go black. I must have imagined there were horns coming from his head too, massive black goat horns. For, I was soon engaged in vanishing from the room myself. In a blur of blue, I caught up to the fleeing once friend of mine.

"Kael'thas is upset, please don't go."

My voice startled Blaize, I think. He backed into a wall, and pulled a knife from his belt. We were alone in this anterior passageway, and he had been moving hastily.

"What is done, is done. I heard him say it…" though Blaize seemed more haunted than even I was.

We argued back and forth on Kael'thas' temper, how it was sometimes a warranted anger. Perhaps Blaize should apologize? But we both knew it was Kael'thas at fault, and Kael'thas in need of making amends, when it was his royal and final word against any of ours. It was at last determined that Kael'thas would never give it. Blaize was sure this day was meant to come.

"Only, I never expected to see you again, when that cruel and selfish once-Prince did me in. I expected to be wiser, and wealthy. Moved on and settled with a title before I incurred his Majesty's inevitable wrath. Oh, Saturna… are you truly happy?"

I could not deign to answer, being Queen.

"I know that you are meant to be happy beside him, but if you are not... If in any way at all, you are unsatisfied with your choice, now is the time to be honest about it. Saturna, you do realize that we will never see one another again? I am moved that you are even still in this life, but moved more sorely that you have chosen to spend eternity with Kael'thas, knowing full well what he is capable of. How have you even made peace with his disgusting affiliation with Lord Illidan?"

I could not answer this either, for I entrusted my husband with that painful business being resolved.

"My Queen, Illidan was not slain by Kael'thas. Rumors abound that the Demon Lord is once more alive and at the Black Temple in Outland. Didn't you know?"

"Mr. Nathaniel Blaize… I had not known this."

"Then you have been lied to."

All the power that was within me should have raged, but, I found my fear quelled. A numbing came over me. I wanted Kael'thas, only, in that moment, beyond enduring. I leaned along the wall but Blaize held me, I think, because he misunderstood.

"I have always loved you. You were the soldier I always mourned most. The loss of your life was senseless and priceless. Come away with me, Saturna Whiteblade. Let's end this trespass of Kael'thas in our lives once and for all."

I lingered long enough for the guards to catch us. Long enough for Blaize to realize that I preferred his capture by my unfair husband, to any kind of life with him on the run.

And that was when you found me in our royal bedroom, Arthas. After going back to Kael'thas, trying to reassure myself that his temper with Blaize was just a fluke. Even after Jaina Proudmoore ambushed us curiously... Later, I still found myself thinking on all the ways in which I have been made so weak to Kael'thas' hard way of loving.

_Arthas raised eyes to Saturna now. Zabran was asleep on his master's shoulder…_

"Saturna, you are not the one who is pitiful. Remember, I told you that I had all of the answers, but first, let's see if any of this was worth listening to."

"You didn't like how I told it?"

Arthas smiled. "You are sort of charming, in a way that only Kael'thas would truly appreciate. But that, in itself is the problem. Back to Magnus the Unmaker. What is your history with him, before I make any real underinformed proclamation?"

"I… I made him what he is. He is manipulative, he can convince others to follow his will. Lady Liadrin asked me to beat that out of him long ago, but he used his strange power to escape the Knights of the Blood Nexus."

"I see, so that is the name of your sect. Well that matters a heap of nothing now, Saturna Whiteblade. I'd been keeping tabs on this Magnus for years before Kael'thas got involved. Magnus is a Deathknight without the middle man, I assumed you knew. I'm the middle man, the Lich King, and nearly a Deathgod, by the way. Magnus has found a way to capture his enemies, without my help, and remake them according to his own design. I was tempted to kill or recruit him, but it was never clear whether or not he would amount to anything, the hopeless letch."

"I still don't understand what connection this has…?"

Arthas touched her cheek, then patted it gently. "You are one of his creations."

Saturna didn't believe it.

"If you are truly free of caffeine's evil influence on your altered conformation, then I can trust what you just told me and fill in all the blanks. I'm surprised none of your friends considered it earlier. Once upon a time, a young woman named Saturna Whiteblade was given far more accolades and responsibility with a sword than she'd yet earned in life. In her eagerness to correct such a terrible mistake, Lady Liadrin, the Blood Knight Matriarch, ordered Saturna to go out and recruit more Blood Knights—this time, older and more capable ones—into her order. Perhaps some of the other ones came out… alright, so I find all your friends to be disgustingly incompetent from what I've been hearing. But one of those recruits, a precious talented one, turned out to have more sense than all the others. As soon as he realized the zealous foolishness Lady Liadrin was up to, he tried to get the hell out."

"Have you no shame? What are Deathknights but opportunistic killers, doing anything in the name of spreading the Plague and misfortune, in _your_ name, Arthas. Your Zabran and your… your Jaina and everyone else are more guilty victims of a personality cult than I am, or any of my brothers and sisters."

"Death is a practical instrument of control. And by eliminating the weak, I am honoring life. Making the truest sacrifice, pouring out their blood as pristine libation. Besides, Saturna, the surest difference between myself and your Mister Sunstrider Darcy or whomever, is that I am going to win this game. There's nothing wrong with my royal balls."

Saturna flushed with shame.

"Now, I dare you to try and say it isn't true. It's not that Magnus merely sweet talked you and escaped your beat-him-to-submission session, sugarbeet. He turned you into something that would hold the door open and help him get away forever. And why not make it an amusing state of being, a true torture, an ironic shackling to your fervent and misguided beliefs as a teenaged paladin wannabe. He unmade you as you were, and then re-made you into this vapid, Sunstrider-hungry creature, who would even dismiss a practical and safe love, time and again, to cling to a man who hurt and tortured and betrayed you just as reliably. Magnus hasn't been in hiding, plotting revenge, Saturna. He's been relaxing on the sidelines and enjoying the show this entire time. And, my oh my, what a spectacular disaster you made out of your life."

What else was there left to do?

"You can leave now, hon." Arthas leaned back against the edge of bed, then shouldered Zabran aside and closed his eyes.

"No, I can't just… leave. How can you do this to me?"

"Hate me much?"

"Very much!" Saturna stood.

"Do you know whom you should hate more? Kael'thas. He told you that he brought Illidan to justice, but I'm pretty sure that bastard got resurrected some days ago. Who else could do that but Kael'thas, because he couldn't kill Illidan singlehandedly, ever! Illidan has become Kael'thas' warlock pet. And remember what I said about Belorim…"

"My own son told me the truth, and I refused to see it. Kael'thas knows Belorim is not his son, but Illidan's… how could I have ever failed to see that!"

"Nerdboy didn't want you to. He's still so hard up after never being laid consistently at University. Not like me." A flex, "I was a stud."

"And Kael'thas is taking out the selfish choice he made on an innocent child he is supposed to love. How can he continue indulging Illidan's lies when we are supposed to protect and raise Belorim together—" Saturna continued to build herself up into a precarious rage. For, the icy door had been left open by Zabran before he dozed off some time ago.

"I'm telling you, babe, Kael'thas saw this whole thing coming. He worked you and Blaize and everyone else into this elaborate plan of deception and revenge. He's not learned a damned thing. It was when I got involved, and when Thrall got involved that Kael'thas got thrown a coupla' curve balls. He couldn't adapt fast enough."

"He and Magnus met on our wedding night, you said… Kael'thas knows the truth of how I was cursed. Kael'thas wanted me to stay this way and keep indulging this sick addiction to him! Oh by the Sun. By all the old gods, and the absent mercy of dragons. How could you do this to me, Kael'thas? Arthas, I can't forgive this much."

Arthas hugged Saturna and rocked her back and forth. "Now you're catching on. Oh, there there, peach-pie. It's going to be fine. Perfectly fine."

"How?!" Saturna mourned.

"Because, this is just step one of _my _plan. And I still have an Achievement left. One last little quest to complete. If you stick with me, then we can see this through and finally get that bastard back for what he did. Wanna stay a couple days and hang out, have some pizza, or sushi or something? We can be evil together—or make do-gooder plans, whatever you wannabe paladins are into these days. I suppose, evil folks would eat pizza and good guys would have sushi. That, or angel food cake."

Saturna could only stand there and sniffle. But, even so, it takes a certain amount of resolve not to flee, when the Lich King himself offers you freedom from his wrath forever.

"ZABRAN! Wake up, and go get us a pizza."

"Ungh, what's a pizza, Masta Arthas?"

Arthas' temper exploded suddenly, and the kicked Troll limped out of there, shouting orders for someone in Icecrown to get Prince Arthas a pizza.

"I knew you would stay, afterall. Aren't you sweet? And I sure know how to treat a girl who's cursed, just ask Sylvanas." Arthas took her by the waist and began to waltz. Something deep inside made Saturna take Arthas' hand. A twisted courage rose up, and she found herself following his lead.

"Tell me more, about this Game of yours."

_In Silvermoon…_

Kael'thas responded to the destruction in his bedroom as any vain Blood Elf might. One can only take so many beheaded likenesses of one's self thrown all about the floor and replaced by Lich King dolls on the shelves, old 'Savior of the Blood Elves' edition tea cups smashed, etcetera. Arthas had been in his very bedroom.

Several Blood Knights arrived soon after the yelling subsided.

"Where is Saturna?"

"How would any of us know that, she's your pet." Sunthraze crossed his arms. Everyone else hushed. Kael'thas closed in on the short redheaded man…

Pyorin defended his old friend, "Seriously, though, Kael'thas, how do you know this isn't some act of vandalism? It's just windows broken out, and a few things smashed. Perhaps even from a servant inside the castle."

And now, murderous royal guise was turned on the Tank.

Daphne tried third, "Please don't blame us for this. We were all vacationing in Undermine and just now got back. Eheh, funny story, Kael'thas… did you know Sunthraze was Lady Vashj's heir all this time? He was planning to cash in whether you got saved or not…"

Back to Sunthraze. "Shit, Daphne, you're not supposed to tell _him_ that!"

Tempestraven yelled, and sounded tipsy still. "Daphne finally got laid!"

Fennore and Mavia blinked. Lady Liadrin shoved Tempestraven out of the way and appealed directly to Kael'thas. "Forgive them. Please, I beg you one last time to forgive them. They were all dropped on the head as babies, and when I recruited them, they were all stupidly young. But one thing they say holds true. What proof do we have that Saturna is truly missing?"

Kael'thas continued to search the room. He pulled across the last window-curtain.

_Dear Nerdboy, I have your woman, and she knows everything. Nanner-nanner-boo boo._

Then, the King of Quel'thalas turned back around, seething. "Do you think this is funny? Because it is _not_! That woman is all I had. And she is the only reason why the few Blood Elves who have returned to the city aren't complaining to Thrall. Because of the Whiteblade, because of her sword, because of her example… Saturna is the only reason I survived anything these last few years…" he began to wander in circles. "You don't know. You just don't know how desperately I need her joy and love her silliness… She is the only one who ever truly cared about me, my life is tumult and cruelty but she was sweet relief. And that monster, that manipulative liar and chronic seducer, he has her? Listen to me, you upstarts. Don't ever trust the Lich King, don't ever even speak to Arthas. He's a user, he's stealthy—"

Fennore wasn't trying to be ironic, it was in his nature. "Like Illidan?"

_Kael'thas, if only you would let me help you manage your new power, you could have safeguarded against this attack. _Illidan spoke in Kael'thas' mind, through their Soul Link. _Did you think this childish plan of yours would fix everything? She was going to learn of your lies eventually. She was going to realize her mistake in choosing you, in time. And what is the result of your trying to settle everything on your own, without your friend? Arthas has come in and fooled you, in the same way that I fooled you so long ago. Your acumen is, in fact, slipping. Summon me. You need me. Reveal our bond to the others._

Kael'thas blanched and struggled to stifle Illidan's voice. "No one has been able to defend against Arthas. He knows how I think. He knows what I eat, he knew where I slept this night! Sorn! Ready my fastest ship, we're leaving for Northrend."

The Bloodknights armed themselves.

"Not you incompetents, don't you touch me, don't you go anywhere near this! I can't lose her again. Fennore, and Mavia, come."

Liadrin took Fennore aside and gave her blessing. "I will not question why Kael'thas has chosen you and your warlock pet above all the others. It is to the benefit of the Blood Nexus that at least some of us go, and he clearly trusts you two. But you must not fail us, Fennore. Here, take the Whiteblade. I have faith that, when you find Saturna with Arthas, you will know what to do."

Fennore looked down at the shimmering sword and its flanged blade, countless rays of a hopeful sunburst. "Yes, Matriarch. I shall… I will cut her down, if she has become one of Arthas' pets."

Liadrin squinted an eye. A crow's foot just there sharpened and threatened to rip. "You IMBECILE! I meant for you to show it to Saturna, and remind her of her lifelong mission to King and Country, not for you to kill her with it!"

Advisor Sorn grabbed Liadrin in a hug then, and she broke down crying on his shoulder. Oh, feckless Blood Knights. He shared a conspiratorial look with Kael'thas. "I will continue as we planned. Thrall will be satisfied and Blaize will not get far…"

Kael'thas waved Sorn off. Belorim came to hug his father goodbye, but Kael'thas flagged at the sight of the boy. He lifted him up and granted a stiff hug, but then handed him to a servant on the way out, kept going.

Daphne was upset to see it. "What in the world has happened to Kael'thas? It's like we went to Undermine to celebrate, came back, and then the whole world fell apart."

Tempestraven had begun smoking. She nudged Daphne and they both started whispering about Lady Liadrin and Advisor Sorn.

Liadrin composed herself and parted from him. "Sorn, your compassion for me was… exemplary. Thank you. And as for the rest of you maggots! Your King rejected your aid, in such a desperate time. If there was ever a clear indicator of your collective failure…" Liadrin couldn't finish. She shouted for them to line up and then followed her soldiers out of the room.

Sorn paced about, looking at all the things done in honor of Kael'thas smashed or destroyed in favor of Prince Arthas.

"I have served three Sunstrider Kings, and never seen such a perfect retaliation to an attack that has yet to be birthed. If Arthas is truly this man, who would come and act alone, ruin so much on a whim… then we have no chance." Sorn could not say more out loud, when he had promised and trusted Kael'thas with everything, even believing that Anasterian's son was above all the rumors and lies against him. These were rumors that Arthas clearly believed, and bothered to act on, as if they were facts. But Sorn remembered Arthas too, when he was a boy, and came as far as Silvermoon with King Terenas, his father, in order to pay homage in friendship to the High Elves. That the young boy had seemed so Human then, but now ruled the fears of the world with barely an effort… No. Sorn would still believe, to the last, that Kael'thas was good.

"If he is not my god, then Arthas is doing a damned good job of stepping in. My Sunwell is destroyed. My Queen is dishonored and gone. And now my King has again left the country, lost all heart."

Sorn left then, unsure if he would go to one of the ancient altars in the woods and have a deer sacrificed, or beg Anveena to intervene. Sadly, the old ways seemed more viable, when the Sunwell herself was presently less powerful than a man who claimed to be the god of Death. Why not just give in, believe Arthas, and give up? There was already news that the forces allied with Dalaran in the North were failing.

But then, Sorn focused on the last piece of Kael'thas' plan. The only thing still holding it all together.

"Magnus, you had better not ruin this for us now. Or I will go to Terrokar Forest kill you myself."

Author's Note:

Jane Austen, please forgive me for butchering your lovely novel in this tiny section I whipped up in homage, as so many writers after you have sought to 'improve' and 'add zombies' to Pride and Prejudice (omg the zombies were awesome, btw). But yours really is a lovely story, so I spoofed it to the backdrop of Warcraft a bit. Also, thank you for writing Mr. Darcy. He is so hot, broody and awesome, Amen.


	6. To Be Continued

**Revenge of Kael'thas**

**Chapter Five: To be Continued…**

_At nine years old I first saw the man,_

_Veins black as pitch but Father squeezed my hand._

_King Terenas—always so forthright, put fingers to thin lips,_

_Told me to respect the Elves. I put fists to my hips._

_The fathers of two princes then shook hands,_

_Embraced like brothers, I yawned and planned,_

_On how to get this shrimp-boy to play some games,_

_While the Kings talked war and an ancient pact,_

_I asked Kael'thas to play cards. He smiled back._

_I was old enough to know, Uther had already said,_

_The son of Terenas was destined for certain things._

_Kael'thas looked up from a losing hand, he laughed and shook his head,_

"_My father promised too, that I would be King."_

"_No you're not. _

_You stink at cards, _

_you stink at jokes, _

_and your father's mouth has got scars."_

"_Nuh uh." Kael'thas went, _

"_I'm letting you win,_

_Cause Father says that's polite,_

_And I have respect for him."_

_Did he know, then, that I would come to hate and cull my own father?_

_Kael'thas grew up, and many say that I did not._

_He got perfect marks, but I always got caught._

_He had a beautiful home,_

_But there were worgen in my fields._

_Then he looked at Jaina, and I did too._

_Saturna you know the rest. Would you believe me, could you agree with me now,_

_If I said back then, I took her, for you?_

Saturna was in tears. She caressed Arthas' face. "I do."

_Of course… you do._

_Jaina felt so too, when I told her… when I held Frostmourne before her._

_When I said I adored her, _

"_Darling, I flattened Quel'thalas all for you. Because the Elves broke the pact and abandoned our kingdom. Do you really hate me for that justice?"_

_She said, "I do."_

_And so I made her a promise, that I would find a way out. _

_Come hell or high water, some day, I would get our love another chance.  
_

_But I began to do what Frostmourne said was right, and the world turned against me. _

_He did wrong, listened to Illidan and your legs opened up—_

"It didn't happen that way!"

_Oh yes, it did. You broke your first marriage, gave up your life, bore him a child, became his wife, all while he burned and murdered and pillaged exotic lands._

"Arthas, let go of my hands!"

_I will not. No one leaves The Game without a speech… say, do you want my gold? And I suppose I could hand my Guild over to you too…_

"Shouldn't Zabran get all that?"

_Ah yes, that's true._

_Zabran, my old charter, it goes to you. _

"Ugh. Yes, Masta Arthas."

_Somehow, Kael'thas was evil and won,_

_But I did not._

_I am a paladin at heart—and he should rot!_

_For all that evil, and he didn't really change._

_And I'd done good. Time to exorcise the stain,_

_On Azeroth's soul._

Arthas took Saturna by the elbow and they walked up to Magnus the Unmaker. He was chained down with frosted links of metal. His teeth chattered, and Arthas leaned in to hear better.

"How… did you find me?"

Arthas laughed. "El. Oh. El. How about that, he doubts that I am a Death god and omniscient, omnipotent… A BODY SNATCHER!"

The Bloodknight flinched and his chair jolted against the stone floor. Magnus saw that Arthas only joked with him, but while the once Prince of Lordaeron laughed, Magnus leaned over and cried.

"Are you pleased, Saturna? Zabran did an excellent job finding him. He was comfy and cozy at the Sunspire, a royal advisor to King Nathaniel Blaize-Sunstrider and Queen Celestia Blaize-Sunstrider."

"WHAT?! But, how did that… I don't understand?"

"All part of Kael'thas' plan. The scapegoat. At some point, your husband was going to blame all the crimes in Outland on him. Magnus was the runner, who got Blaize and Celestia together and pointed them back at Silvermoon with a new political agenda. Not bad, for a brainwashing Unmaker. Then, Kael'thas planned to come back and retake the city, as a liberator. Because, who wants to live under the General dictator's regime? Let Blaize get in, let Blaize take the fall when certain foul evidence is released, then kick Blaize back out."

"But Blaize isn't a horrible man. He may be arrogant, and selfish, but he doesn't deserve that!"

"Now do you believe me, that your husband is evil?"

"I did already, but this is… Blaize is just a man, it's disgusting to abuse a person who served with hardly a question, pushed the Sunfury to sacrifice in Kael'thas' name? It's too much."

Arthas crossed his arms. Zabran unchained Magnus and forced him to his feet. "You do what the Lich King tell you to."

"Saturna, what happens at the end of every fairy story? What does the princess get?"

She banished fear. "I… I live happily ever after."

"Good. But your fairy godmother has to do a little work first, doesn't he? I think… you know what to wish for. Magnus, you unmade her. Get ready to clean up your own mess. Saturna, go on."

She wiped her eyes. "I… I wish for you to put me back."

Arthas clawed the top of Magnus' skull, made him pay attention. "Back to what, Saturna?"

Her heart raced. She pulled at her hair, looked up at the crystalline ceiling. Icicles dripping and freezing again to get narrow and sharp like so many hanging daggers. "Back to… I don't want to be… that is, I've tried to stay away from Kael'thas, but I can't because of what you did to me…"

Magnus breathed harder.

"But Arthas says you can fix it so that… so that I don't feel that way anymore. And that's what I want. With all my heart, I want to be free of this terrible man." She opened her mouth and pearly teeth parted quivering lips. "My husband… he has always been a villain and evil. Even when I tried to save him, Magnus, for the good of our order, he wouldn't stay saved. He fooled all of us."

And then Kael'thas could be heard yelling, from outside the chamber. The sounds of fighting carried with it.

"Just in time." Arthas smiled.

Sylvanas Windrunner appeared in the doorway, and let fly an arrow. Her sister Vereesa came at Arthas with sword raised. Arthas was laughing wildly until he saw those two. Jaina Proudmoore blinked into the room and stood beside him, frowning.

"Kael'thas, somehow, you got the whole Kirin'Tor to support you… why do YOU deserve all this? Jaina, I thought you were going to bring him straight here."

Jaina apologized to her Master.

Kael'thas entered the room last, and summoned Illidan. Mavia and Fennore flanked him and conjured foul magic.

Kael'thas explained, "I was in a disguise at the time. But the Windrunner sisters were very grateful to be reunited, so they weren't too upset when they learned the truth. And they both wanted a bone to pick with you, especially, when you weren't expecting an assassination attempt. Saturna, come."

Saturna stood, wringing her hands.

Arthas chewed a thumbnail, looking from her and back to Kael'thas. Meanwhile, Zabran was busy trying to keep Arthas from being pummeled by all the angry people in the room. Impressive and capable Deathknight!

Fennore was worried. "Mother Whiteblade, are you under some spell? Get away from Arthas!"

"No… I don't want this life."

Kael'thas heard it. His long ears twitched.

"Magnus, I do not wish to be a fangirl anymore!"

_ARTHAS HAS EARNED THE ACHIEVEMENT: SCREW OVER ALL OF MY FRIENDS._

There was shouting all around, scuffling and confusion. Arthas grabbed Jaina in a romantic sweeping off her feet and asked her if they could 'Log Out together.'

"Saturna, don't do it—How can you do something like this to me, when we still love one another? Magnus, don't you dare obey. I own you, remember? Your only role in this was to deliver Blaize and Celestia to Silvermoon."

"What the—I don't work for you. I work for a powerful sorcerer with a secret identity who knew all of Blaize's weaknesses and promised that he would help me achieve my goals to overthrow the Silvermoon government… Oh."

Kael'thas had even set up the wayward member of the Blood Nexus. Up until now, Magnus had not even realized who he was really working for.

"Oh no, Kael'thas, it's too late to get the Douchebag of Azeroth title." Arthas warned. "Life's just a game, I figured that out before anyone else, which means… Server first, over here!" a fist pump. Arthas held Jaina round the waist in one roguish arm, and pointed the other, with Frostmourne at Magnus' throat. "Do as Saturna says."

Kael'thas' face contorted with frustration at all the sense this didn't make.

Magnus raised hands overhead, and released his spell. Saturna clutched her stomach and fell to her knees.

"Arthas, what did you do to her?!"

He laughed as Jaina held onto him. They both began to fade.

"The only way to win the Game is to stop playing it. Got boring after a while, practically sucking my soul, and it didn't do to play by their rules any more. Why linger here and suffer any longer? I've gained every level, completed every quest. When you see life like that, as something you can master and overcome, then it is possible to quit all this and start over. And, if I was going to leave, then why not just go out with a bang?"

Jaina's eyes sparkled. "I just adore this man. He found a way for us to be together, finally. Just pick up and leave all those who judged us and said he'd broken too many rules. Kael'thas, you may have had a clever plan, but Arthas had the best one. And this suits me just fine."

_Jaina has gone offline._

_Arthas has gone offline._

Kael'thas ran to help Saturna, but she slapped his hand away.

"You can stop pretending, that jabbering fool is gone and he can't hurt you or anyone else."

But Saturna wasn't pretending. He watched as her blue aura dissipated, her face flushed with life. Mortal flesh solidifying and returning again. Magnus had really done it. Everything he knew to be real was unraveling.

Illidan said, "I always knew I never liked that stupid, stupid woman."

To be Continued…

Author's Note:

If this is confusing and rushed (whyever am I sitting here, pretending that it couldn't be?), then it's because I already have 10 chapters of another installment already set to go. MLFMP4: Fall of Quel'thalas takes place in the future and I wanted to set the scene, and fast. Why has everything been so wild and crazy lately? Well, it was very hard to find a story I actually wanted to tell—I got tired of this one. I'm still eager to end this series in a way I feel really good about, though. Guess third time's the charm!

So, what happens when Saturna gets her wish to have never been a fangirl at all? Fall of Quel'thalas is a mystery that will eventually answer that question.


End file.
